


Emerging From The Dark

by Heather Smyth (Shire55), Shire55



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 327,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shire55/pseuds/Heather%20Smyth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shire55/pseuds/Shire55
Summary: Carrying on from Love Through The Angst, Jean-Luc and Beverly, now married and with a family of their own, endure a devastating experience, with far-reaching consequences.
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

It took some time for Jean-Luc to regain his composure. So many emotions clamoured inside him. Anger, hurt, bitterness, the feeling of betrayal, but overall, the gut-wrenching worry about his beloved Beverly. Somehow, he had to pull himself together. Despite what she had done, Beverly needed him, and he was determined to be there for her. He knew there was a terrible rift between them now but healing it would have to wait. His first priority was Beverly. They would deal with everything else later.  
Wiping the wetness from his face, Jean-Luc stared out to sea, taking several deep, calming breaths. When he felt ready, he went back inside. As he was about to step indoors, he looked down at the calm water and the vacant, floating craft and thought, “Where’re James and Katya?” When no answer came to him, he shrugged and continued inside.

Apart from the soft sounds of the water and the far-off calls of sea birds, it was otherwise silent indoors. He saw that Elly wasn’t lying on the quilt any more and a brief search showed Beverly wasn’t in the main room or the kitchen.  
Walking silently, as he always did, Jean-Luc approached the master bedroom and stood in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. Curled up on their bed was Beverly and nestled in the curve of her body was their sleeping daughter.  
Thinking they were both asleep, Jean-Luc turned to leave, but Beverly’s soft voice stopped him.

“I’m sorry, Jean-Luc.” She sounded so tired and sad Jean-Luc couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. He entered the room and sat on the bed; his face half obscured. Into the ensuing silence, Beverly whispered, “I never meant to hurt you.”  
Jean-Luc took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I know.” He whispered. “Are we okay?”

“No, Beverly, we’re not, but that’s not what’s important right now. What we have to concentrate on is getting you well again.”

“And then?"

“And then ... I don’t know. We talk, I suppose.”

There was a sad silence before Beverly said in a quavering, soft voice, “Jean-Luc, tell me it’s going to be all right.”

It was such an ambiguous thing to say, Jean-Luc was momentarily lost for words. Eventually he chose to respond to the obvious. “Of course, it’s going to be all right, Beverly. You yourself told me your situation isn’t life-threatening.” “That’s not what I meant.”

He stood, unable and unwilling to continue. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Beverly.” He walked to the door and sighed, turning back. “When is your next appointment?” “Tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll ... I’ll accompany you.”

He heard, rather than saw Beverly sigh. Her tone was dismissive. “You don’t have to.”

“Nevertheless, I will”

“Whatever.”

His face set in a hard, flat expression, Jean-Luc stepped into the brightly lit living room and had to squint while his eyes adjusted. Remembering his earlier thought, he said over his shoulder, “Do you know where Katya and James went?”

“I’ve no idea.”

Beverly’s tone was so unemotional, he briefly wondered if he’d ever hear her lovely, naturally happy voice again. He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll ... I’ll um, go to the resort. Katya must’ve taken James there.”

“Okay.”

It was a relief to get out of the bure and the oppressive pall of despondence.

Having traversed the floating jetty, once he’d reached the beach, Jean-Luc had no idea where to begin to look for his son and his nanny. The resort was the obvious first choice so he set off in that direction and had only covered fifty metres when the unmistakable sound of James’s squealing reached his ears. Despite his glum mood, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but smile.  
“Where on Earth did you get your set of lungs, James?” He wondered with amusement. “My God, you could raise the dead.”

He followed the raucous noise to a grassed area between two arms of the main building. There, being pushed on a brightly coloured swing set was James. Other, outlandishly spattered play equipment stood around. Katya stood behind James, pushing him and watching carefully to make sure her charge didn’t wriggle out of the harness that kept him safely situated on the synthetic sling that formed the seat.  
She looked up briefly and sent Jean-Luc a sunny smile. He stood just out of the arc of the swing, pretending to make a grab at James as he got close. Predictably, the lad shrieked when he saw his father and yelled even louder in his delight with the new game.  
Katya studied her captain covertly, noting, although he was certainly brighter than her previous encounter with him, he still had an air of disquiet about him. He grinned at James, but his eyes showed his true feelings. They were troubled.  
After a few minutes, Jean-Luc replaced Katya as the pusher and the young woman stood beside him, watching as Jean-Luc grew sombre.

When he spoke it was so softly she had to strain to hear him. “You accompanied Mrs. Picard yesterday.”

It wasn’t a question and Katya didn’t treat it as such.

“Yes.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

Katya’s eyes widened in fright. “Oh my God! So that’s it. They’ve had a row about me ogling him! Oh, shit! He must’ve seen me!” She thought desperately. Scrambling for something bland to say, Katya’s mind failed miserably. Instead of saying something non-committal, she blurted, “I didn’t mean anything by it, Captain! I would never ... I was just looking ... I’m not the only one, lots of people I know do it too!”  
Turning his head slowly, Jean-Luc gave Katya a very confused look. “I beg your pardon? What are you talking about?”  
Her mouth agape, Katya closed her eyes. “You idiot! You stupid fucking idiot! He doesn’t know. Jesus...” Her face flushed and she swallowed. “Um ... sorry, Cap ... Mr. Picard. I thought you were talking about something else. I got confused. Ah ... what was your question?”

Giving Katya a stern look, Jean-Luc repeated his question. “Yesterday ... did Mrs. Picard say anything to you ... after you left the doctors?”  
“Say anything to me? About what, sir?”

Growing irritated, Jean-Luc snapped, “I don’t know! Anything about what the doctor said? You were with her, weren’t you?”  
“I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t. Mrs. Picard told me that I could wait outside while she took Elly in.”

Pursing his lips, Jean-Luc’s dark eyes glittered. “I see. And what about afterwards, when you and she were making your way back to the bure?”  
“Oh, no.” She thought. “I’m not going to tell you about that!” She shrugged. “If you’re asking if Mrs. Picard said anything about Elly’s check up, I’m sorry, sir, she didn’t.”  
Scratching the skin over his temple, Jean-Luc said absently, “Oh, very well. Thank you, Katya.”

After that awkward exchange, conversation was virtually non-existent. They stayed at the park for another twenty minutes before James let everybody within earshot know he was hungry. As they made their way back to the bure, Katya wondered yet again what had happened.

Just as they neared the anchor-point of the jetty, a softly feminine voice called out from behind them. “Captain Picard?”  
Jean-Luc halted and turned, making sure his face showed nothing of his inner turmoil. “Manager By. A pleasure, as always.” He said affably.  
Offering a slight inclination of her head, Frinna appreciated her guest’s courtly manners. However, her nice feelings soon dissipated as the reason for her meeting became clear. “Captain Picard, I have been instructed to inform you that Brother Yan wishes to conduct a private blessing with you and your lovely wife.”

Jean-Luc, highly experienced in reading body language and facial expressions saw clearly Frinna’s underlying nervousness and, he decided, fear. “I see.” He said mildly. “And what, exactly, is a blessing?”  
“It’s a formal ceremony of cleansing, Captain.” She spoke as if reciting a well rehearsed spiel. “I must tell you, Captain, it is a singular honour to be chosen.”  
“I’m sure it is,” Jean-Luc said diplomatically. “But I’m afraid we won’t be attending. Please convey our appreciation in being invited and let Brother Yan know that it’s not possible for us to go.”  
Frinna began to wring her hands. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Please, Captain Picard.” There was a definite note of desperation in her voice. “You must attend! Brother Yan would be terribly offended if you refuse. Please, Captain...”  
Frowning deeply, Jean-Luc cast his eyes around and, seeing no one, edged a little closer to the distraught woman. “Are you under some kind of duress?” he asked gently, but firmly. “Have you been threatened?”  
The manager’s worried expression spoke volumes. “Brother Yan has been elected into the High Council of Clerics, he now wields great power.” She said, her voice breaking. “As soon as he knew you were coming, he made sure to be here ... to be the one to greet you. It is thought that the group will gain enormous prestige if he can get you and your family as members.”

Jean-Luc’s expression was one of cold anger. “Frinna, are you being coerced?”

She chose her words carefully. “It has been impressed upon me that my family lives in a predominately group-held town. They, like me, choose to remain secular. If my family wishes to keep living in the town, it is prudent that I carry out the wishes of the group.”

“I see. Tell me, if I refuse, will you be punished in any way? Will your family be safe?”

“There are still laws that protect our right to be secular, Captain.” She said shakily. “I will not be punished for your refusal, by delivering the invitation, I have fulfilled my obligation.”  
“And your family?”

She sighed heavily. “Like many in their situation, they will have to make a decision. If they stay, they will eventually have to join. It’s inevitable. Their only hope of staying out of the group is to move to a larger town, or a main city.”  
Katya, who had been listening with growing alarm, stepped closer and said quietly, “Captain, perhaps it’s time we left Haven.”

His slow shake of his head made Katya’s stomach sink. “No, I will not be dictated to by these people!” His voice carried his determination.

Frinna looked at her guests and sighed. “Captain Picard, your companion’s suggestion was wise. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if you left Haven. I would be only too pleased to find you suitable accommodation on another planet.”  
“Are you saying we’re in danger if we stay?” 

“No, as I said the law will protect you, but I know the group, and I know Brother Yan. He won’t give up easily, Captain. Your holiday might become very unpleasant if you stay.”  
“Captain, you have to think of your family.” Katya had meant well, but Jean-Luc didn’t appreciate her comment. He turned dark, angry eyes on her and she almost cringed. “I’m sorry, sir, I spoke out-of-turn.”  
Refocusing on Frinna, Jean-Luc said forcefully, “I will not be intimidated by Brother Yan or anyone else. Please tell him we choose to be secular and we do not wish to embrace any form of religion.”  
Her shoulders slumping, Frinna bowed. “As you wish, Captain.”

As she turned and walked away, Jean-Luc shook his head. “Unbelievable! In this day and age, on a planet like Haven!”  
James, who had been strangely silent sidled up to his father and took his thumb in his little hand. Looking up with large eyes, he said tremulously, “Papa?”  
Jean-Luc picked him up and hugged him. “It’s all right, James, everything’s all right.”

Sticking his thumb in his mouth, James rested his head on Jean-Luc’s shoulder and gazed back at the beach while they walked along the jetty.  
Katya, walking behind father and son, watched James’ face, her mind trouble “This isn’t right.” She thought. “He shouldn’t be digging his heels in like this, that’s not like him at all. Whatever’s happened between him and Doctor Picard, it’s clouded his mind, his judgement, he’s not thinking clearly. We should be getting the hell out of here.”

Resolving to try and talk to Beverly about it, Katya dutifully followed her captain, but she was a very unhappy and worried woman.

The atmosphere inside the bure was still very oppressive. Throughout the remainder of the day, nothing much was said by anyone and Katya grew increasingly alarmed by Jean-Luc’s silence regarding the meeting with Frinna. Having not had any opportunity to speak privately with Beverly and doubting she would be receptive anyway, given her current despondent mood, Katya helped bath James and Elly and put James to bed.  
Both parents read to him, but they were uncomfortable in each other’s company and James picked up on that making the whole exercise tense and brittle.  
Katya was relieved when Beverly suggested she was free to do as she wished. Keeping up a semblance of normality, she stayed in the living room reading quietly while Beverly stared at a PADD which Katya doubted she was actually reading, and Jean-Luc lounged on the balcony, studiously ignoring the tension that surrounded everyone.  
When she thought the time was right, Katya slipped unobtrusively into her room quietly closing her door and leaning against it with her eyes screwed shut.  
“My God, this can’t go on! Something’s got to give.” She muttered.

Beverly frowned down at the fussing baby, her patience wearing thin. Elly was reacting to the unsettled atmosphere and her mother’s tension by being difficult to feed. Every time Beverly offered her breast, Elly would take the nipple but refuse to suck. She would turn her face and wail piteously. Beverly knew her daughter was hungry and was growing increasingly frustrated by her inability to soothe her.  
Jean-Luc came in and sat beside his wife, observing the frazzled baby. Reaching over, he offered the tip of his little finger and Elly latched on to it, sucking strongly. Keeping his gaze on the baby he said mildly, “She seems to be hungry.”  
Beverly’s acerbic reply really didn’t help matters. “Oh, really? Well done, Einstein.”

Jean-Luc gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together. “Was that really necessary, Beverly?”  
Sighing, Beverly closed her eyes and shook her head. “Probably not, but I don’t need you to state the blatantly obvious.”  
Elly’s wails had grown to all out screaming, her little face nearly purple. As the volume increased and the cries became more insistent, Beverly grew more and more desperate. Seeing the situation rapidly deteriorating, Jean-Luc took Elly and began to pace around the room.

Over the noise of his screaming daughter, Jean-Luc said loudly, “Perhaps you should express some milk and put it in a bottle? She might accept that.”  
Disappointment, defeat and anger showed in Beverly’s curt, rough actions as she retrieved a sterile cup and bottle from the replicator. Jean-Luc could see that it was uncomfortable for her to express the milk and he wondered if it had anything to do with her hormonal imbalance.

It took a while to collect enough milk and throughout the wait, Elly wouldn’t be consoled and the screaming went on unabated. Pouring the milk into the bottle, Beverly jammed the teat on, stood and shoved it into Jean-Luc’s hand.  
“I’m sure you’ll have more success than me!” She snapped. She stalked outside as Jean-Luc sat; crooning softly as he gently rubbed the teat over Elly’s lower lip. She suddenly stopped screaming and greedily closed her mouth and began to suck. The sudden cessation of sound was startling.

When it was clear Elly was feeding contentedly, Jean-Luc stood with her cradled in his arm, and went to join Beverly on the balcony. He wasn’t surprised to find her softly crying.  
They stood together quietly, neither speaking as the waves lapped gently on the pylons under the decking. Eventually Jean-Luc sighed. “It’s not your fault, Beverly.” He said softly.  
As Beverly had done before, Jean-Luc had uttered an ambiguous comment and Beverly wasn’t sure how to respond. Was he referring to their fight? Or to the trouble she had feeding Elly?  
Fortunately Jean-Luc made himself clear. “She probably picked up on the tension we all feel, that’s all. I’m sure it was nothing you did or didn’t do.”  
Turning to look at her husband, her eyes fell to the baby, now sucking sleepily. Beverly sighed and shook her head sadly. “She doesn’t appear to be having any trouble with you feeding her.”  
Lifting one shoulder, Jean-Luc offered a lopsided smile. “Little girls always want to please their fathers.”  
It was such a kitsch thing to say, Beverly couldn’t help but laugh. “God, Jean-Luc, you can be insufferably smug at times.” There was no malice in her words and Jean-Luc was pleased to see a warm sparkle in her eyes.  
They held each other’s gaze and Jean-Luc felt overwhelmingly sad. It must’ve shown in his eyes because Beverly said softly, “We can’t go on like this, Jean-Luc.”  
“I know,” He said quietly. “I can’t cope, Beverly, it’s ... it’s destroying me.”

Putting the now empty bottle on the rail, Jean-Luc lifted Elly to his shoulder and, rocking gently on his feet, began to rub her back. Keeping her gaze on the baby, Beverly said carefully, “Okay, we’re both upset and that’s no good, because it affects the kids as well as us. So, why don’t we put it behind us for now and just concentrate on the here and now. Once we sort everything out, we can sit down and discuss it calmly, like adults.”  
“Hmm, that’s probably the best way to handle it. At least we won’t ruin the holiday.”  
“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll get you a cup of tea.” Worn out by the day’s events, Jean-Luc was ready for bed, but he had one more thing to discuss.  
“Beverly,” he said and by his tone she knew what he wanted to say was important. It crossed her mind he might have more to say about their rift and she felt mildly irritated, but she soon discovered it was something far more dangerous.  
He told her about his meeting with Frinna and Beverly’s reaction was the same as Katya’s. “We should leave, immediately!” 

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t think so. If we leave, we’re giving in to terrorists!”

Beverly gaped. “It’s a religious order, Jean-Luc. They’re not terrorists.”

“Aren’t they? Think about it, Beverly. By their own actions they’ve shown to be uncompromising in spreading their doctrine. They may purport to be a religious order, but it’s really only thinly veiled terrorism by another name. And I don’t think we should raise their profile by tucking our collective tails between our legs and running.”

Once again, Beverly’s anger rose up like lava in an active volcano. “Are you insane?” She hissed, remembering to keep her voice down. “What about the kids? Look, I get it, okay? One has to be strong in the face of bullies, blah, blah, blah, but, Jesus, Jean-Luc! You’re placing us in danger because you want to take the moral high ground?”

Gently placing Elly in her bassinette, Jean-Luc did his best to stay calm. “I have no intention of putting you or our children in danger, Beverly, and I resent any suggestion that I would. However, I have never bowed to intimidation and I don’t intend to start now.”  
“Fine! You make a stand, be my guest, but you’ll do it on your own!” They stood toe-to-toe, glaring heatedly at each other.

“What the hell does that mean?” Jean-Luc’s voice was low and dangerous.

“It means,” Beverly snapped, “That James, Elly, Katya and I won’t be here. If you won’t listen to reason, we’ll be leaving in the morning.”  
“You can’t!” Jean-Luc was outraged.

“Can’t I? Watch me!” Beverly spun on her heel and stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door and leaving Jean-Luc fuming. The sudden noise woke Elly and she began to scream. Jean-Luc closed his eyes, fisted his hands and slowly counted to ten.  
Katya, lying awake in her bed, stared up at the clear ceiling and let out a long breath. “Jesus, this has got to stop.”

It had taken a long time before Jean-Luc eventually dozed off. He was lying on the sofa and, no matter which way he positioned himself, he just couldn’t find a comfortable spot. Without a pillow, he was using the cushion from the over-stuffed lounge chair and it was too high, making his neck ache.

He managed to drift off just before dawn, but no sooner had he fallen asleep when the sound of someone making no effort to be quiet woke him. As soon as he opened his eyes he squinted in pain. His head was throbbing, and he must’ve strained a muscle in his neck, as pain shot through his neck and down into his shoulder when he tried to move.  
The source of the noise quickly became obvious. Beverly was shoving things into a bag and clomping around, heedless of the racket she was making. Elly’s bassinette was sitting on the living room table and Katya had just emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes and looking confused. As yet, there was no sign of James.

Slowly sitting up and doing his best to keep his head still, Jean-Luc said evenly, “What are you doing?”  
Though her tone was bland, Jean-Luc knew his wife was furious. Still. “What does it look like? I’m getting ready to leave.”  
The pounding in his head was making Jean-Luc feel sick. He briefly closed his eyes and wondered if there was any point in trying to reason with Beverly when she was so very angry. Still, he had to try. “Beverly...”  
She breezed past, stooping to pick up one of James’s toys. She didn’t give her husband as much as a glance.

He tried again. “Beverly, please ... stop.”  
She came to a halt in front of him. One hand on her hip, she glared down at him and saw he was in pain. Her anger quickly vanished. Sitting beside him, she gently cupped his chin and lifted his head. The movement made him wince.  
“Uncomfortable night?” She asked evenly, no trace of sarcasm.  
Jean-Luc, his eyes closed, grunted his reply. He felt the sofa shift as Beverly stood and he heard her walk away. She was back soon enough and his ears picked up the sound of a tricorder. The cold nozzle of a hypospray made him frown, but, with the hiss of injection, the effects of the analgesic were almost instantaneous.

Pain free, he sighed thankfully and opened his eyes, but Beverly was nowhere to be seen. Katya was busy in her room, leaving Jean-Luc to wonder where Beverly had gone. His question was quickly answered.  
James hurtled out of his room and ran pell-mell towards his father hitting him with such force, Jean-Luc toppled backwards. He’d grabbed James as his body impacted and lifted him to try to lessen the force of the collision and it worked ... to a point.  
Unfortunately, the little boy’s shod feet swung up high behind him, then down with astonishing speed and hit Jean-Luc squarely in the groin. He let out a sharp, guttural yell, his body trying to tuck up protectively, but with James in his arms, that was impossible. 

The agony that shot through his body was so severe he abruptly vomited. He was unaware of Beverly taking James out of his arms and he didn’t feel the hands that eased him onto his side on the floor, where he had fallen.  
Gasping for breath and heaving ineffectually, all Jean-Luc could do was cup his testicles and tremble violently.  
As if from far away he heard vague voices. Beverly was saying something, but he couldn’t concentrate on it. Every nerve end was screaming, the agony shooting out like electric shocks from his balls into every pore of his body and centred in his testicles a hideous throbbing.

Katya had taken James and set him down to play with some toys. With him occupied, she collected a bucket, hot water and some cleaning products. As Beverly tried to make her husband as comfortable as she could, Katya began to clean up the vomit. Nothing was said. Katya was embarrassed for her captain and Beverly was worried about him. Even James seemed to realise something bad had happened to his father, the lad was unusually, though thankfully, quiet.  
Having waited a few minutes, Beverly bent to Jean-Luc’s ear and said firmly, “I need to scan the area, Jean-Luc ... see if there’s any damage. Can you lie on your back and move your hands away?”  
It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew Beverly wouldn’t have asked him if it wasn’t important. So, with agonising slowness, he rolled onto his back and lifted his hands, but he simply couldn’t straighten his legs. Beverly seemed to accept that, as she made no move to ease his knees down. Katya made sure she busied herself and Beverly sent her a smile of thanks.

The scan was mercifully quick. Gentle hands helped him roll back onto his side. “It’s okay, Jean-Luc, no serious damage.”

It was little comfort to the suffering man, but he nodded nonetheless.  
“If you can walk, I’ll take you into the bedroom and run a regenerator over the area, but it’s going to be very sore for a few days and there’ll be some mild swelling.”  
He nodded again, still panting.

“Okay, you let me know when you think you can stand up. I’ll help you to walk.”  
There was vomit on Jean-Luc’s shirt and trousers, but Beverly quietly told Katya not to worry about it. She had cleaned the floor and the edge of the carpet and left to empty the bucket and join James.  
Beverly sat on the floor beside Jean-Luc and gently rubbed his back. “I suppose you know I can’t give you a painkiller. Not only have you just had one, but with your kind of injury, I’m afraid an analgesic wouldn’t help. It’s just one of those things, I’m afraid. Medical science has made quantum leaps forward, but some things haven’t changed in centuries. Getting kicked in the balls now is much the same as it’s been since year dot. Sorry.”  
Jean-Luc was beginning to regain some control. The pain was still horrendous, but he was starting to cope with it. It was no longer so overwhelming. As he listened to his wife he thought he detected a note of amusement in her voice and it made him angry. Taking a shallow breath he muttered hoarsely, “It’s not funny, Beverly.”

She really did try to sound sympathetic. “I know.” Unfortunately she didn’t sound very convincing.  
“Why is it...” He said through clenched teeth, “That everyone except the victim thinks it’s so bloody funny?”  
Beverly shrugged, barely keeping the grin off her face. Once she knew he wasn’t seriously injured she found the whole thing very amusing. Jean-Luc was right though, in every instance she could think of, this very situation always made people laugh. Everyone, that is, except the victim. And, she thought wryly, men were the worst! She could remember men standing around guffawing while a friend lay at their feet, clutching themselves in agony.  
“I don’t know, Jean-Luc. Maybe it’s proof to fellow human men that men aren’t invincible.” She was genuinely perplexed.  
Groaning softly, Jean-Luc finally opened his eyes. “I don’t feel very invincible right now.” He croaked.

Hiding a grin, Beverly asked solicitously, “Do you think you can get to your feet? I’ll help you.”  
He really didn’t want to move yet, but the promise of the regenerator was tempting. However, that meant he’d have to walk ... not far, but any distance at the present moment was too far, or so he thought.  
Somehow he got to his knees, but he was hunched over, still cupping himself. Gentle hands eased under his arms and, as she slowly and painfully got to his feet, he realised, with great embarrassment, that Katya was helping as well.  
Unable to straighten, he hobbled, shuffling his feet across the room and into the bedroom. There, once he was lying on the bed, Katya withdrew and closed the door, leaving him alone with Beverly.  
Getting his trousers and briefs off was an exercise in torture, but with Beverly’s care and gentle insistence, they managed. Straightening his legs was too much to ask so he just parted his bent knees and very gently removed his hands. As his testicles dropped he gasped and let out a moan. Beverly was as quick as she could be whilst still being thorough. It was still almost too long for Jean-Luc.  
When the treatment was finished, Beverly helped Jean-Luc remove his soiled shirt and put his briefs back on, and then to roll onto his side where he curled up and once again cupped himself. The regenerator had worked its magic and he felt a great deal better, the pain was now just a sullen throbbing, but he still felt nauseous. 

Beverly covered him with a sheet, opaqued the ceiling and whispered, “Try to sleep, Jean-Luc.”  
He pulled one hand free and grabbed her wrist before she could leave the bed. “Will you be here when I wake up?” His dark eyes bored into hers.  
“Yes.” She smiled and he let her go.

“Thank you.” He eyes closed and Beverly left the room, closing the door quietly.

Unknown to Jean-Luc, during his sleep his body had unfolded. His legs were now more or less straight and with his hands now free, one arm stuck out a right angle from his chest and the other, bent at the elbow, had his hand resting flat under the pillow beside his head. He didn’t know what had broken his slumber, but he kept his eyes closed while he assessed the pain.  
Much less now, he decided it was tolerable and thought about moving, however, the risk of stirring the pain into something truly horrid made him hesitate. So, instead of doing anything, he just lay still and allowed his thoughts to wander.  
Uppermost in his mind was the conflict with Beverly. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, and it wasn’t Beverly’s behaviour that vexed him ... it was his.  
“Why?” He wondered confusedly. “Why the hell did I do that? What possessed me to even consider putting my family at risk? And for what? A petty domestic dispute on a planet that has absolutely nothing to do with us! Christ! What was I thinking?”  
He squeezed his eyes shut, the overwhelming sense of guilt making him groan softly. “What the hell is going on?” He murmured. “No wonder Beverly’s upset, I’ve been acting like such a complete arse!”  
The revelation only went part way to easing his confusion. The reason he’d made such terrible decisions remained hidden, although he felt it was just out of reach. But the harder he tried to access it, the more elusive it became, and all that did was make him increasingly frustrated and angry. He was still struggling with it when the door opened and Beverly came in. 

His eyes were closed but Beverly could clearly see his frown. She sat on the bed, noting his changed body position. “Feeling better?”  
Opening his eyes, Jean-Luc’s expression remained passive. “Yes.”  
“Good.” There was no real warmth in the word, only mild professional detachment.  
A brittle silence descended until, unable to take it any more, Beverly stood and moved towards the door. Without thought of the consequences, Jean-Luc quickly sat up, saying urgently, “Wait! Don’t go.” The shard of pain that lanced through his body made him wince, but he waited and it slowly abated. 

Beverly stood silently by the door, her hand on the handle. Jean-Luc knew what he said next would either drive her away or go some way towards healing the damage he’d caused. He chose his words with care. “I’ve been a fool, Beverly. I’m so sorry.”  
She turned then and regarded him, her eyes hooded, waiting. Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc continued. “I can’t give you a rational explanation, Beverly, as to why I’ve been behaving in such a cavalier fashion, but I can tell you that I know now I’ve made some terrible decisions. I honestly don’t know why that happened. Of course, I hold you and our children far and above anything else, including my principles ... I’m sorry.”  
Moving slowly, Beverly regained her seat on the bed and sighed. “You’re not the only one who’s behaved badly, Jean-Luc. I too have made some questionable decisions and, like you, I have no idea why.” There was sorrow in her voice and it tore at Jean-Luc’s heart.

Jean-Luc reached for her hand, but hesitated. Beverly made it easy for him by completing the action and holding his hand.  
“So, what do we do now?” He asked quietly. Beverly offered a penetrating stare.  
“Well, I think our next move is pretty obvious.”  
“Get away from here.”  
“Yep, get the hell out of Dodge.”  
He smiled at that. It had taken many years for Jean-Luc to become accustomed to Beverly referring to ancient earth movies.  
“Right. Are you packed?”  
“Yes, we’re packed and ready.”  
Jean-Luc hid his hurt on discovering she was indeed prepared to leave him, but then admonished himself for being so selfish. “Of course she was going to leave, you idiot! By your actions, you were putting her and the children in danger!” He thought savagely. It would take a long time before he forgave himself for what he’d nearly done.  
“Good. Give me ten minutes.”

Before he could move, Beverly placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy, Jean-Luc. You’re going to be sore for a while, remember.”  
“Oh! Right, yes, of course.” He gave Beverly a grateful look. “Thank you.” He said softly.  
Leaving him to wait with Katya and the children, Beverly’s spirits lifted for the first time in days.  
Jean-Luc got to his feet slowly and waited until the throbbing settled. Then, turning so his back was to the door, he carefully eased his briefs down and inspected his scrotum. As Beverly had warned him, there was mild swelling and the wrinkled skin had darkened with bruising.  
Letting out a long breath through puffed out cheeks, he muttered, “Could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.” He dressed and packed and left the room without a backwards glance.

Jean-Luc carried the bassinette, Elly blinking owlishly in the bright sunshine. James pulled at Beverly’s hand straining to see over the edge of the floating jetty. Bringing up the rear, Katya carried the small personal bags; the main luggage would be taken by the resort staff and placed in the runabout.  
The interior of the large foyer was cool after the heat of the sun and Jean-Luc put the bassinette down. When no one came to greet them, Jean-Luc cast a questioning look at Beverly and shrugged. “Perhaps they’re all on a break?” He suggested hopefully.  
Beverly was twisting sideways as James weaved through her legs, refusing to release her hand. “It’s past lunch time and anyway, someone should be on duty at all times.” She said.  
“I’ll go and find someone.” Said Katya, putting the bags down.

She was gone some time before she returned alone. To Jean-Luc’s raised eyebrow she reported, “I’m sorry, Mr. Picard, I couldn’t find anyone.”  
“No one?” Beverly’s voice was incredulous.  
“No.”  
“Do you mean the staff refused to see you?” Jean-Luc was becoming annoyed.  
“No, Sir. I mean there’s no one here. The place is deserted.”  
Growing exasperated with James’s inability to stand still, Beverly looked down at him and lifted his hand. “James, honey, give it a rest, will you please? Papa and I have to talk.”  
At full volume, James yelled, “I wanna play!” His piping voice echoed around the empty foyer.  
Patiently, Beverly placed both hands on his shoulders to get his attention. “I know you do, James, but not here. Right now, I need you to be quiet. You can do that, can’t you?”  
His thumb slipped into his mouth as he looked up at his mother, a solemn expression on his face. “Yeth.”  
“Good.”  
“So, what do we do now?” Beverly asked Jean-Luc.  
“Well, in the absence of any staff...” He absently scratched just above his ear. “You and Katya take the children and go to the runabout. I’ll go and get the luggage and I’ll meet you there.”  
“No.”  
“No?”

“Katya can take James to the playground while you and I sort this out.” By the tone of her voice, Jean-Luc knew she was irritated.  
Cautiously he said, “Are you sure?”  
“Damn right.” Then she said in a milder tone, “We can’t leave without a flight clearance anyway, Jean-Luc.”  
“I don’t give a damn. It’s not as if they can stop us from leaving.”  
“Perhaps, but the way the group have been taking over government agencies, I’d rather not rock the boat. If what Frinna By said is true, the last thing you want to do is antagonise Lannit Yan.”  
James, having heard Beverly mention the playground, began to squirm once again. Before Beverly could become distracted by his antics, Katya came forward and took his hand.  
“I’ll take him, Mrs. Picard. We’ll go to the playground and wait for you there.”  
It all happened so quickly, Jean-Luc was left with no option but to pick up the bassinette and follow Beverly past the luxuriant potted trees that stood each side of the staff exit. Showing no hesitation, Beverly pushed the door open and walked through boldly.  
Twenty minutes later two very confused people stood back in the foyer. Beverly shook her head, still looking around as if they’d missed something.  
“Katya was right. The entire place is deserted.” Jean-Luc did a full turn, shaking his head.  
“Okay, that makes it easy. Come on; let’s go get Katya and James.”

Elly had begun to fuss, and Beverly felt the ,letdown reflex, making her grimace. As dark patches appeared on her light blue blouse, Jean-Luc noticed and said gently, “Would you like to feed her? We could sit under a tree.”  
Smiling her thanks, Beverly shook her head. “No, I’d rather wait until we’re aboard the runabout. I’d be more comfortable there.”  
Jean-Luc looked dubiously at his daughter and winced as her wail grew in intensity. To allay his concerns, Beverly took his free hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay, Jean-Luc, she’ll just have to wait a little while.”  
They were walking along the grassed edge of the grounds, the beach on their right. The playground was only thirty metres away when Jean-Luc looked up and frowned. “I can’t hear James.”  
Snorting, Beverly had to raise her voice to be heard over Elly’s complaints. “I can’t hear anything!”  
As she watched, Jean-Luc’s expression went from one of confusion to one of tense alarm. Before she could say anything, he shoved the handles of the bassinette into her hands and took off at a dead run. Hurrying to follow him and with her own fear rising, Beverly reached the opening of the play area to see Jean-Luc down on one knee beside the prone form of Katya.  
His head was turning left and right and, as Beverly got closer, she heard him shouting their son’s name.  
Frantically, Beverly’s eyes scoured the playground. James was gone.

“Go!” She shouted. “Go and find him! I’ll look after Katya!”  
Their eyes met and Kean-Luc saw terror in the depths of Beverly eyes. He nodded and rose in one fluid motion, turned towards the beach, and ran.  
Cresting the small rise above the sand, he turned and ran along the top before loping down onto the beach, reasoning that if James had come this way, he’d see his footprints in the sand.  
Running away from the resort, Jean-Luc sensed his son wouldn’t have gone the other way, but it wasn’t based on anything other than gut feeling. Getting his hammering heart under control, he deliberately slowed to a jog, ignoring the discomfort running had caused his testicles and fearing he might miss something if he moved too fast.  
Sweeping his eyes left and right, he jogged between the dry and wet sands hoping with every fibre of his being that he would catch sight of the little footprints.  
He stopped suddenly and, taking huge breaths, stared out across the gently rolling sea. The thought that his little boy might be just under the surface, drowned in the merciless ocean made his eyes prick with tears. “No ... oh, no, please, not that.”  
He saw nothing but a raft of grey sea birds floating in the middle distance.

He spun around, squinting down the length of the beach and yelled, “James! James, it’s papa! Can you hear me?”  
His legs moved of their own volition and he was off again, jogging, his head down, his eyes riveted to the sand.  
Ten minutes passed, then fifteen and still nothing. Coming to an abrupt halt, Jean-Luc wrenched his sweat soaked body around and glared back the way he’d come. “Too far!” he panted. “It’s too far, he couldn’t have made it all this way! Not enough time!”  
Wasting no time, he cut up towards the rise where, this far from the resort, the manicured grass had given way to hardy costal grasses and scattered stunted trees. Moving a little distance within the tree line, he turned and set a course straight back, paralleling the beach. Further away from the shore, the trees thickened, and the undergrowth was an impenetrable tangle.  
“Not in there, James ... please, not in there!”

It would be impossible to pick up footprints, especially those as small as James’s but the running man hoped for some sign, some clue, though what it might be, he couldn’t guess. As he got close to the resort the costal trees gave way to the artfully landscaped palms and although he could see the brightly coloured play equipment, he neither saw anyone nor heard Elly. Relief washed over him as he realised help must’ve arrived.  
“Yes! They’ve been taken into the resort. Good. I’ll organise a search party while Beverly oversees Katya’s treatment while she feeds Elly.”  
He angled down towards the beach again, but his course would take him past the open front of the playground. As he ran past, he glanced inside, just to be sure, and saw something that made him slow, then come to a stop.  
Mouth open and chest heaving, Jean-Luc walked to where he knew he’d found Katya. Where her head had lain, there was a dark patch of blood, already soaking into the sandy soil. But what had caught Jean-Luc’s attention was the device sitting in the middle of the bloody patch.

Everything seemed to narrow down to this one small area of stained grass. He no longer heard the birds, the gentle shushing of the sea or the whisper of breeze through the palm fronds. As if in slow motion he bent and picked up the device.  
It was similar to a PADD. As soon as his thumb touched the right side, it activated. There was text and he squinted in the bright light to read it.  
Captain Picard. You were chosen to receive a remarkable gift. Such an honour! But fool ... arrogant fool that you are, you refused. There is a price to pay for such a grievous affront! And you, Captain Picard will pay that price with your very blood. However, the Enlightened One is compassionate! You have a chance ... One chance ... To redeem yourself! Go back to your bure and wait. You will be contacted.  
His breathing almost back to normal, Jean-Luc stood, the hand holding the device hanging limply by his side. Turning a slow circle, he shouted for his family. The only reply came from the startled birds.  
Suddenly bending double, he thought he was going to vomit. Mouth open wide he gasped, “Beverly ... James ... Elly ... Katya ... Where are you? Who has done this?”  
The nausea abated and he straightened, lifted the device, and re-read the message. With a savage shake of his head, he ran back into the resort and searched it again, bellowing for his family. Not only was the resort still deserted, the external communication system was offline. He briefly considered making his way to the runabout to summon help, but his instinct told him that would put his family in even more danger. Frustrated and savagely furious he continued his fruitless search.  
Ending up back in the foyer, frantic and trembling, he dropped to his knees, tears streaking his sweaty face. Minutes passed before he regained control. His head turned slowly and through watery, blurred eyes, he gazed through the large windows at the bure, seeming to shimmer in the heat and hover unassisted over the water. He rose slowly and, like an automaton, finally obeyed the message.

Beverly’s backside was numb and her back ached as she sat propped against the cold stone wall. Katya lay at a right angle to her, the ensign’s head carefully cradled in Beverly’s lap. The dull pain in her lower stomach had begun to worsen.  
In the dim, gloomy light, Beverly hadn’t been able to get a good look at the wound on the back of Katya’s head, she’d felt it’s edges and probed the underlying bone with the tips of her fingers and she thought there was a good chance there was no fracture, but the fact that Katya had not yet regained consciousness told her that, at the very least, she had sustained a serious concussion.  
Of her children she’d seen nothing. Whoever had kidnapped them had done so very carefully. The first thing Beverly knew of her abduction was a hand that suddenly covered her mouth and a slight prick in the skin of her neck. She had quickly lost motor control, then consciousness. It must have been a very mild drug because on waking, she felt no aftereffects. Her mind was sharp, her thinking clear.  
Her initial reaction was to yell for her children and her husband, but that only lasted a few minutes as her panic surged, then abated. That’s when she discovered Katya. They were in a small stone room. It wasn’t cold or damp, but neither was it clean. Her subsequent search had shown no door, no windows, and no air vents. She could stand but, on reaching up, the ceiling, also stone, was only just above her head. It was, in effect, a sealed stone box.  
Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine what a room like this could be used for. Except ... keeping prisoners in. She had no idea how thick the stone was, but she got the impression it was quite solid. “And soundproof.” she thought dully.  
Turning her attention back to Katya she fretted and called for help, yelling loudly that medical assistance was required, but of course, nothing happened. So, with nothing else to do, she settled on the floor, her back against the wall and gently positioned Katya so she could cradle the young woman’s head. Her training told her that she’d done everything she could and now she should conserve energy and concentrate on using all her senses to gather information.  
“Oh yeah. Like there’s so much going on!” her muttered, sarcastic remark made her snort and Katya softly groaned and lifted her hand to her head. Her slow rise to consciousness was the first bit of good news in hours.

Jean-Luc sat in a deck chair on the balcony. Four and a half hours had passed, and no contact had been made. The sun was slowly sinking; the sky ablaze in stunning colour, but Jean-Luc was oblivious to it. He was so absolutely still; two birds had perched on the railing in front of him, seemingly unaware of his presence. Instead of lying back in the chair, he sat on its edge, hunched over, head bowed. His feet were planted and with his elbows on his knees, his hands were tightly clasped between his legs.  
Staring sightlessly at the decking, his mind went round and round as he desperately tried to unravel the chain of events. With so little to go on, the only conclusion he could come to was so obvious he almost wept in frustration.  
“It was a trap!” he closed his eyes and grimaced. “But why? Because I offended Lannit Yan?”  
Suddenly overcome with the need to move, he launched himself out of the chair causing the birds to take flight with startled squawks. He prowled around the living area and became so enraged by his helplessness; he picked up a dining chair and threw it across the room. It hit the desk in the far corner and knocked the monitor onto the floor.  
The jolt activated the screen and the picture of the lovely beach flickered twice, then cleared. Jean-Luc glanced at it and sneered, the urge to kick it until it smashed was very tempting, but just as he began to stride towards it, the image changed and the lined austere face of Lannit Yan appeared.

Momentarily frozen in place, Jean-Luc only moved again when the Brother seemed to shift. It was a trick of the light. Picking the monitor up off the floor, Jean-Luc set it on the desktop. He pressed the play icon and, as the image began to speak, Jean-Luc hooked a chair over with his foot and sat down to watch.  
“Your obliteration is inevitable. Only those who choose the path of righteousness can claim the kingdom of the Enlightened One. Only by the spilling of pure blood can the unclean be brought into our light. Those who would deny the one true God deserve nothing but the wrath of fire and damnation!”  
Stabbing his finger, Jean-Luc paused the recording. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Extremists! Mon Dieu, my family are in the hands of fundamentalist madmen.”  
He rubbed his eyes and pressed play. “Join us! Discover the Truth! Give yourself to us!”  
When it became obvious the recording had ended, Jean-Luc bent forward, about to search the other recordings for any clues, but the image of Lannit Yan appeared again, only this time it wasn’t a recording, it was real-time.  
“Ah, Captain Picard.” his tone was smug, his expression haughty. “It’s about time! I was beginning to think you weren’t up to the simple task of working out how I would contact you.”  
“What have you done with my family? Are they all right?” Jean-Luc wished his voice hadn’t sounded so desperate, but there was no point in trying to hide it. Lannit Yan held all the cards ... at least for the moment.  
Lannit Yan didn’t answer; he just kept on talking in his smug, superior way. “I have arranged at meeting...”  
“Answer me, damn you!” Jean-Luc shouted.  
There was silence and, as Jean-Luc watched, Yan’s face changed. His mouth became a thin, straight line and his eyes, which were curiously slanted, gave him a Faustian look. The silence stretched on and Jean-Luc was forced to apologise.  
“I’m sorry.”

“So, you should be!” Yan spat, making Jean-Luc realise just how petty and spiteful he was. Yan took a deep breath and his smugness returned. “As I was saying,” he said condescendingly, “I have arranged a meeting. I saw you running on the beach, you were very impressive, I must say! See if you can put all that energy into something worthwhile. In one hour, I want you to be at the Glorious Temple, five kilometres down the beach ... in the direction you were running as it happens.”  
Keeping his expression neutral and his voice even cost more than Jean-Luc was willing to admit. “Is the temple near the beach?”  
“No.”  
“Will I be met?”  
“Yes, but if you are so much as one minute late, your wife will suffer. If you are one minute early, your wife will suffer.”  
“I understand.”

“A representative of the group will wait at the temple. If you are not there at precisely the right time, you will have forfeited your one chance.”  
Jean-Luc pointed out what he thought was blindingly obvious. “But I don’t know what the right time is.”  
Yan grinned and something about his skin didn’t look right. Around his mouth and at the corners of his oddly upswept eyes seemed ... false, somehow, but Jean-Luc couldn’t devote any time to ponder what it was about it that looked wrong.  
The eerie smirk widened, and the weird effect was accentuated. “Yes, you do, Captain Picard. I’ve already told you.”  
His eyes narrowing, Jean-Luc tilted his head. “All you’ve told me is that in one hour’s time, I have to be five kilometres down the beach. You haven’t told me the exact time I’m supposed to meet your representative at the temple. How can I make sure I arrive at the precise time, if I don’t know when that is? Or, for that matter, where the temple is?”  
Lifting his long, thin hands, Yan spread them and offered an insincere smile, “When faced with adversity, Captain Picard, the Enlightened One will show the way. Trust in the One True God and you shall be saved.”  
When he grinned again, Jean-Luc wanted to smash his fist into the image. “Your time starts ... in five minutes.”  
The screen winked off. A startled Jean-Luc shot to his feet so fast the chair tipped backwards and clattered to the clear floor. Already formulating a plan of sorts, Jean-Luc spent two precious minutes at the replicator before bolting from the bure and running pell mell along the jetty.

As soon as his feet touched the sand, he stopped, then looked down at his clenched hand and forced his breathing under control. Opening his hand, he continued the counting he had begun the instant Yan’s image had disappeared. When he reached three hundred, he clicked the button on top of a stopwatch and set off at a steady run back down the beach, past the resort and on into the unknown.

“I feel sick.” Katya moaned softly. She was sitting beside Beverly, her head in her hands.  
“I don’t doubt you do.” Beverly kept her voice low and soft, acutely aware any loud sound could trigger vomiting in the heavily concussed young woman.  
“What happened?” Katya slurred, increasing Beverly’s worry.  
“We’ve been kidnapped. I didn’t see it happen, but you received a nasty blow to the back of your head.”  
Grunting softly, Katya kept her head still “Kids?”  
“I don’t know. When we found you, James was already gone. Elly was with me, but when I woke up in here with you, she wasn’t here.”  
“Captain?”  
“I’ve no idea.”  
In the silence Beverly could hear their breathing. It was loud. Her heart was hammering so hard she was surprised that wasn’t audible too.  
“Did you find anyone?”  
Beverly’s sigh carried her frustration. “No. You were right; the resort was deserted.”  
“Lannit Yan.”  
It wasn’t a question and Beverly grunted at the mere mention of his name. By her reaction, Beverly confirmed Katya’s suspicions.  
“Trap, then.”  
“Yep, it seems so.”  
“Ransom?”  
Shrugging, Beverly tucked her chin in. “I don’t know. I’ve not seen or heard anyone ... or anything. If a ransom demand has been made, I’m not aware of it.”  
Gingerly lifting her head and wincing, Katya screwed her eyes shut. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, it took a few steady breaths before she could speak again. “If a demand has been made, the captain won’t accommodate it.”  
Beverly’s expression saddened. “Actually, I believe he would.” She had spoken the words softly, but her conviction was loud and clear. Katya slowly turned her head and squinted at her boss.  
“But Starfleet policy...”  
Smiling kindly, Beverly shook her head. “He’ll ignore it, Katya.”  
“Doctor Picard,” Katya said carefully. “I was with the captain when Frinna By relayed the invitation from Lannit Yan. He was very firm about his refusal to be intimidated. In fact, he stated categorically he would not yield to what he referred to as terrorists.”  
Beverly just smiled and offered a shrug. “Things can change, Katya, nothing’s set in stone.”  
“Captain Picard changed his mind?” Katya’s incredulity made Beverly chuckle.  
“Let’s just say he rearranged his priorities.”  
Beverly made a fist with her left hand, released it, then fisted her hand again. There was a slight tingling down the length of her arm. At first, she put it down to a pinched nerve, sitting in one position on the unforgiving stone floor had obviously caused the sensation. That was until she realised the sensation was in her left leg, too. All the way to her toes. Frowning down at her hand, she made a fist again and wondered if her grip was as strong as it should be.  
Chewing the thumb nail of her right hand, Beverly thought darkly, “Oh, damn ... not now! I don’t need this ... not now!”  
Katya groaned softly and put her head back in her hands. “I feel sick.”  
“So do I.” Agreed Beverly and shifted slightly to ease the pain in her lower stomach.

As Jean-Luc ran he thought about his earlier jog down the beach and how this time, although his pace was a little faster, he was no less frantic.  
He knew he could easily run five kilometres in an hour, but because of the strict conditions of the meeting, he had to try and accurately measure his speed. Fortunately, he was confident he could do that. His shoes left clearly defined prints as he ran on the hard, damp sand near the water.  
The sun had set, but by the light of Haven’s moon and the phosphorescent glow of the sea, he had no trouble finding his way. The stopwatch he’d replicated had an illuminated face and he looked at it occasionally to check his progress.  
Although frantic with worry, he regulated his breathing and quickly established a rhythm he knew he could easily maintain, so he wasn’t surprised when, by his calculations, the five kilometres had been covered.  
He came to a stop and spent a few moments peering into the surrounding darkness. The ambient light was best on the beach, inland the shadows of the trees and undergrowth appeared like an impenetrable wall and that, of course, was where he had to go.  
It was obvious there was no temple in the open and, Jean-Luc recalled, Yan had said as much. So, Jean-Luc trotted up the rise of sand, away from the water until he crested the small dunes and stood, staring into the gloom of the stunted forest. Somewhere in there, his family were being held.

A gentle off-shore breeze carried the smells of the forest and Jean-Luc closed his eyes and drew deep breaths through his nose. He was rewarded when he picked up the unmistakable scent of burning incense. It was something Katya had remarked on when they’d first arrived. She’d said how the smell had reminded her of her Hutsul grandparents as they often burned a type of incense in their home. Although the Havenite variety was different, it was similar enough for her to correctly identify it. If nothing else, it was proof of habitation nearby. All he had to do was find it in the dark.  
It was difficult to gauge how far into the undergrowth he’d travelled. Sweat stung in numerous cuts and scratches and he was grateful to be wearing trousers and not shorts. Fortunately, the forest wasn’t very dense, and he saw the clearing before he actually stepped into it. Cautiously he looked at his stopwatch and noted it was nearly time.  
Casting about, he saw the indistinct form of a low building and moved slowly towards it. At first, he couldn’t make out any features let alone a door, but on closer inspection he realised there was a rectangular seam that he recognised as a portal. Checking the watch once more, he straightened up and waited.

The material that comprised the portal shimmered and abruptly vanished, leaving Jean-Luc to squint in the sudden outpouring of light, though not vivid, was bright after the darkness. He did not, however, lift a hand or flinch. A tall silhouette, the tallest Jean-Luc had ever seen of a Havenite, stepped forward and the smell of the incense grew stronger.  
“I see you are on time, Captain Picard. That is very commendable, you are showing appropriate respect.”  
Whoever it was, it wasn’t Lannit Yan. This voice, though definitely male, was very high pitched and had an odd sing-song quality that tickled something in Jean-Luc’s mind, but under the circumstances he ignored it. “Where are my family?” he asked quietly.  
He couldn’t see the man’s expression in the dark, but he heard the smug condescension in his voice. “You are not in any position to ask questions, Captain. It is time for purification. Come with me.”  
The man turned and Jean-Luc tensed, preparing himself for a sudden attack. But before he could launch himself, he felt something sharp pressed into the small of his back. A cold voice said softly,  
“Do as you are told, Captain.”

Relaxing, Jean-Luc stepped inside and followed the tall being into a large, low-ceilinged room that was almost bare. With white-washed walls, it was devoid of any decoration but for a symbol of some kind painted on the far wall. There was a small altar beneath it and incense burned in a suspended thurible, its three chains gathered at the apex of a metre-high tubular metal tripod. The floors were rough-hewn wood as was the ceiling.  
There was a solitary door of dark, metal-studded wood in the wall to Jean-Luc’s right. It was shut. In each corner of the room was a plain, wooden chair and in the centre of the room a shallow one metre square metal tray.  
Jean-Luc followed the tall man and studied his clothing. He wore a simple cream-coloured top, long-sleeved and reaching down to his thighs. His trousers were of the same colour and were turned up at the hem to create the impression of more material than was actually there. He was bare footed.

Once near the tray, the man turned to the altar, spread his arms wide and bowed low. A hand pushed Jean-Luc’s head rudely and he was forced to bow.  
The tall man slowly turned to face Jean-Luc and the captain was immediately struck by his features. He possessed the same oddly up-swept eyes that Yan had and, as Jean-Luc scrutinised his face, he saw the same unsettling falseness in his appearance. His skin, in particular, seemed wrong, somehow, but Jean-Luc didn’t get a chance to study it. The man’s face showed nothing but cold indifference.  
“You are unclean.”  
Jean-Luc was well aware of his body odour. A mixture of panic and exertion in the heat of the day had made him sweat and his struggle through the undergrowth had caused many cuts and scratches on his exposed skin. He wasn’t just unclean; he was filthy and he stank. However, not only wasn’t there anything he could do about it, he couldn’t care less. There were much more important things to discuss beside his lack of personal hygiene. He was therefore completely unprepared when the male calmly said, “Strip.”  
“What?” Jean-Luc asked.

“Strip. Take off your clothes.” The man showed absolutely no emotion. His voice was flat and even, though it was too highly pitched, yet Jean-Luc felt, rather than heard a clearly implied threat. Still he chose to ignore the instruction.  
“Where are my family?”  
The man sighed, his violet eyes cold and glittering. “Still asking questions, Captain?” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe Jean-Luc’s audacity. “An uninitiated alien has no right to ask anything. You...” he stabbed a stiff finger into Jean-Luc’s chest. “...are in Kerron’s house! You must be cleansed!”  
Hard hands gripped Jean-Luc’s shoulders and pushed him to his knees. Towering over him, the male looked down and sneered. “Do you wish to be undressed like a child, or would you rather take your own clothing off? I’m sure my acolytes would be only too pleased to assist you.” 

Jean-Luc was aware of at least one other group member in the room but from what the tall man had just said, there might be more. He began to turn his head when a large hand gripped his pate and prevented him.  
“You are running out of time, Captain.” The voice was so cold. “You will be cleansed, or you will be cast out.”  
“And my family?” thought an increasingly desperate Jean-Luc. He nodded and the hand on his head disappeared. He climbed to his feet and quickly undressed. He was then told to stand in the tray.  
The icy-cold water that was suddenly poured over him made him gasp. A bar of soap was pushed into his hand and, while shivering violently, he lathered his body from head to toe. He braced himself for more cold water and he wasn’t disappointed. Two more dousings followed before he was told to step out of the tray. He stood shivering, his arms wrapped around his body, but no towel was offered. In fact, no one did anything to help him get dry. Although he was cold, the room wasn’t, and he slowly air dried.  
His teeth had stopped chattering, but his skin was still goose pimpled. While he had dried, the tall man had stood in front of him, watching dispassionately. Now he said perfunctorily, “Come with me.”  
Jean-Luc was no prude, nakedness didn’t particularly bother him, but he did feel very vulnerable. The tall man led him to the altar and bowed low. He then turned to Jean-Luc and smiled, but his expression wasn’t one of friendliness, instead it made Jean-Luc’s testicles pull further upwards, towards his body.  
Two strong hands gripped his arms and Jean-Luc tensed. From behind him, someone handed the tall man a device Jean-Luc didn’t at first recognise. It was only fifteen centimetres long, had a bulb at one end and a very fine point at the other. Too late Jean-Luc realised it was a skin inker. He was about to be tattooed.

Despite her pain and discomfort, Beverly was dozing when Katya hissed urgently, “Doctor!”  
Snapping her eyes open, Beverly quickly searched for any danger and, at first saw nothing to be alarmed about, but then she saw what had caused Katya’s warning. Low on the opposite wall, a small rectangle of light had appeared. It was just above floor level. Beverly couldn’t help wincing as she moved to investigate, but before she’d even got close, something was shoved through, followed immediately by something else and the light abruptly disappeared.  
She moved the short distance tentatively, partly out of caution and partly because it was difficult for her to move at all. Her lower stomach was quite painful, and she seemed to be dragging her left leg.  
Squinting to see in the gloomy light, she pulled what appeared to be a shallow tray towards her. In it was an open ceramic dish filled with something that looked like steamed vegetables and was warm. “Food.” said, Beverly. Focusing on the other tray she saw two flasks. “And drink.”

Gripping the dish, she lifted it, but her grip failed, and it fell from her hand. Fortunately, it neither broke nor spilled any of its contents. Beverly hadn’t heard Katya’s approach, but her voice was soft as she said, “Something wrong, Doctor Picard?”  
Beverly was flexing her hand, dismayed at her certainty that it was losing power.  
“No, I’m fine.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. However, Katya had seen both the dragged leg as well as Beverly’s failure to successfully grip the dish. Without saying anything, the ensign took both trays and went back to the far wall. Beverly followed and retook her position next to her.

The young woman held the dish in both hands as she raised it to her nose and sniffed. “Seems okay.” she offered cautiously. “Smells like okra and bok choi, but there’s more I can’t identify.  
“Well, it’s probably all right; I doubt our captors intend to poison us.” The last thing Beverly wanted to do was eat, the very thought made her feel nauseous, but she knew she had to keep her strength up. To deflect her thoughts, she used her right hand to pick up one of the flasks.  
It was cold to her touch and seemed to be made of some kind of cured hide. She sniffed it experimentally and was rewarded with a faint musky smell. Further investigation showed it was stoppered with a wooden plug. Using her teeth to grip it, Beverly twisted it out, and then cautiously sampled the liquid inside. As soon as a little of the fluid poured into her mouth she nodded, swallowed, and informed Katya,  
“Water.”

They shared the meal in silence. The vegetables were bland but at least they were warm. The women even drank the liquid left in the dish, then drank a few mouthfuls of water.  
Katya’s voice was soft as she remarked, “I’m not at all sure that’s going to stay down.”  
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you brought it up, Katya. At the very least you have a serious concussion. Vomiting is par for the course, I’m afraid.”  
Katya, though feeling dreadfully ill and with a pounding headache, still heard the pain in Beverly’s voice. “What about you?” she asked sympathetically.  
Beverly flapped a hand, but before she could say anything, Katya cut her off. “Please, Doctor Picard, don’t say you’re fine. It’s obvious you’re not.”  
Taking a deep breath, Beverly shrugged. “Well there’s no point in complaining about it, Katya. If you remember your training, conservation of energy is vital in situations like this and I consider acknowledging discomfort a wasted effort.”  
There was a hint of amusement in Beverly’s voice and Katya appreciated the gesture. When Beverly shifted to lie along the base of the wall, Katya followed suit. There was silence for a while before Katya said idly, “I hope they provide a bucket or something soon. I need to pee.”

“Don’t remind me! I need to as well.”  
Once again, silence settled.

As the inking began, the tall man had sneered at Jean-Luc, his violet eyes taking in Jean-Luc’s naked body. He plucked at Jean-Luc’s chest hair, saying disdainfully,  
“We Havenites do not have such vulgar characteristics. We have beautifully smooth bodies, a fitting canvas for the Enlightened One.”  
He began at the suprasternal notch. When the point of the device touched Jean-Luc’s skin, a fine needle extruded and to the accompaniment of a low hum, the needle plunged in and out of the skin at a phenomenal speed, each time injecting a quantity of ink. Jean-Luc flinched and the hands that held him increased their grip. It wasn’t very painful however, more like a strong burning sensation.  
As the tall man worked his way down about five centimetres, he then scribed the device to the left another five centimetres and then down again. Jean-Luc’s skin had become very sensitive and very quickly he began to be unable to identify exactly where the work was being done. It wasn’t until the needle reached the tender skin of his left armpit that he knew with certainty where it was.  
From his shoulder, the device moved back towards the centre of his torso. From then on, Jean-Luc wasn’t sure what was happening. He had been forbidden to look down, so he couldn’t see what the tall being was doing. He worked on both sides of Jean-Luc’s torso.

In all it took nearly an hour before the tall man stopped. Jean-Luc took a deep breath but, unsure if the inking was over, he didn’t relax. It was just as well because the tall man wasn’t finished. He looked down into Jean-Luc’s eyes and his smile was cruel.  
“You might find the next bit a little ... uncomfortable.”  
When a hand grabbed Jean-Luc’s penis he flinched and instinctively pulled back. The sensation of a sharp, pointed object pushed into the small of his back reminded him to stand still. The grip on his penis wasn’t hard, nor did it hurt, but when the device began to move down the shaft, Jean-Luc gasped. Again, his senses were overwhelmed, and he couldn’t tell what was being done.  
He thought the ordeal was over when the inking of his shaft stopped, but it wasn’t. He felt his penis being lifted higher and the tall man bent as if concentrating. Jean-Luc felt his foreskin being retracted and couldn’t help but yelp as the device ran over the glans.

Finally, the tall man stood upright and stepped back. He seemed to be assessing his work, then he looked over his shoulder at the large symbol painted on the wall above the altar. Giving one more critical appraisal, he nodded and smiled.  
With a small gesture the man holding Jean-Luc’s arms released him and with the tall man’s permission, Jean-Luc got his first look at what he’d done.  
Although seeing it upside down, Jean-Luc immediately saw he’d been tattooed with an image that was identical to the symbol on the wall, but where it was very colourful, his tattoo had been done only in a black outline.  
Around his navel was a double ring approximately twenty centimetres in diameter with the two rings being three centimetres apart. Radiating out were arms that ended in points. One terminated at the suprasternal notch, where it was elaborately filigreed and one at each armpit. Two more radiated out to each hip and the last down to his pubis where it narrowed and continued down the shaft of his penis.  
From the rim of the glans, a thick solid black line traversed the skin to end at the urethral opening.  
The tall man’s voice was conversational as he explained, “With this holy sign you have become an initiate. As you progress to become an acolyte, the colours will be added and, when you have attained true enlightenment, the name of the Enlightened One will be inscribed within the blessed circle.”

As he said this, his finger traced the double ring on Jean-Luc’s stomach. “You have been chosen by Brother Yan himself; no doubt you are suitably grateful.”  
Jean-Luc chose his words carefully, keeping uppermost in his mind the safety of his family. Since her presence on Haven was because of he and Beverly, he had begun to think of Katya as part of his family. “Although I am honoured, of course, I would’ve appreciated being able to make this decision for myself.”  
The tall being shrugged, but his smile grew cold. “It matters not. You have been chosen.”  
He held out his hand and someone gave him what appeared to be a small article of clothing. He offered it to Jean-Luc, and he took it. It was a cream-coloured pair of briefs. As he put them on, the tall man said, “From now on you will address me as Eman. It is a Havenite word that, roughly translated means...”

“Perfect.” Jean-Luc muttered. Eman’s eyes glittered and he reached up and gripped Jean-Luc’s jaw and squeezed until the captain’s breath hissed through his teeth.  
“You will not interrupt! An initiate is silent and subservient at all times. I will be your teacher and you will learn well. When you are tested at the various levels on your way to enlightenment, if you fail, I will be the one held responsible, and in my shame and disappointment, I will chastise you.”  
He released his grip and smiled his cold smile. “From now on, you will answer to no name but what I call you. If ordered to perform a task ... any task, you will obey instantly.”  
“And if I don’t?” Jean-Luc asked with a trace of defiance.  
Eman retightened his grip of Jean-Luc’s jaw until he screwed his eyes shut in pain. “May I remind you that we have your family in our ... care?”  
The threat was enough to make Jean-Luc capitulate. Through gritted teeth he ground out, “I will obey.”  
“Excellent!” Eman snapped his fingers and Jean-Luc got his first look at the males who had, until now, been unseen. “Take him to the scripture room and prepare him, I will be there shortly.”  
Jean-Luc offered no resistance as he was led away. Once he was out of the room a hidden door opened and Yan stepped into the room. Eman grinned and reached into his top. The object he withdrew made Yan grin wolfishly.  
“That is going to make us a fortune.” Yan said.  
“Oh, yes.” agreed Eman. “Once this is sent to the appropriate people, we will be able to name our price.”  
“And we will be able to dispense with these ridiculous disguises.”  
“Hmm.” Eman prodded at the skin around his mouth and grimaced. “Time I had a touch up, I think.”  
“Yes, I noticed Picard was paying too much attention.”  
A frown caused the skin of Eman’s forehead to wrinkle oddly. “Do you think he suspects anything?”  
“I doubt it, but he’s no fool. Best to be on the safe side.”  
“I agree. What about his family?”  
Yan shrugged. “Once we’ve been paid, they’re of no further use, but until then, we need to keep them healthy ... besides,” he chuckled. “They have a role to play.”  
“Indeed. So, we sell Picard afterwards?”

“Yes.”  
“The Orions?”  
Again, Yan shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter does it. The Orions, the Cardassians, Romulans ... they’d all pay well.”  
They both smiled but then Yan frowned. “One thing though, Picard’s wife ... she’s ill. It might be prudent to have her seen to.”  
“Why? She’s only going to be disposed of.”  
“Yes, but it might be a while until we’re paid. In the meantime, we may need her to encourage Picard to behave. Nothing like seeing a vid of your wife being ... handled to get a man thinking right. And if she’s ill beforehand, she won’t give such a good performance.”  
“True.” Eman said affably, but then his expression became hard. “I want the boy.” he muttered softly.  
Yan’s eyebrows rose. “Really? You want a human child?”  
“Yes.”  
When Eman gave no further explanation, Yan shrugged. “Well, I have no objection. What about the infant?”  
“I have no use for her. Perhaps the Guild?”  
“Possibly, but she’d probably be more trouble than she’s worth.”  
“Still, she’s the daughter of Jean-Luc Picard.” Eman said.  
“True, that’s got to be worth something.” Yan tilted his head, his eyes predatory. “What have you in mind for the boy?”  
“He’ll make an interesting toy, don’t you think?”  
Tilting his head from side-to-side, Yan pulled up his lower lip. “I’ve always found human children a disappointment. They’re so fragile.”  
“Well, you may be right, but I still want him and when I’m finished with him, there’s always the open market. Like his sister, he should fetch a good price, even though he might be damaged goods.” Eman said, his expression devoid of any emotion. “What about the other one, the young woman?”  
Yan could tell Eman was hinting at something.  
He shrugged. “The nanny? What of her? She’s of no importance.”  
Eman’s eyes glittered and he smiled, but even Yan was repulsed by the avariciousness of the expression. “I had a thought ... an idle thought ... something that might prove ... interesting.”  
“About the nanny?” Yan was growing suspicious.  
“Mmm.”  
“And?”

“Oh, nothing really, I just wondered what would happen if Picard were to father any more children, that’s all.”  
“More children?” Yan was obviously confused. “Eman, I have no idea what you’re talking about! Picard already has two brats that we’re stuck with. Are you suggesting we use the nanny as a breeder? With Picard? Why?”  
“A continuing source of income!” Eman’s tone clearly showed his enthusiasm, but he was careful to not anger Yan by coming up with such a lucrative idea. Yan was the brains, Eman the brawn. Usually.  
“Look,” He said, trying to be patient. “We know the wife’s a liability, once we’ve secured a buyer, she’s no longer worth anything. If she were to be kept alive, Picard would never give up. We know this. Same thing goes for his brats. He’ll be told they were disposed of; he’ll never know what really happened to them. Now, once the dust settles, we’d have the opportunity to keep the market interested by offering a brat every two years or so. With Picard as the father, the pedigree alone would hold the price.”  
“Yes, but we don’t need the nanny for that! We can get any human female whenever we want.” Yan said dismissively.  
“I know that, but you’re forgetting something. Human males, particularly human males Picard’s age, usually need to form some kind of attachment with a partner before they breed.”  
By Yan’s look of disgust, Eman smiled. “Yes, mawkish, I know, but there you are. So, what do you think?”  
Yan sighed and tilted his head. “Well, I won’t reject it out of hand, your idea has its merits, but there are inherent problems with it as well. My counsel is to wait. It may be that the sale will be a quick one, who knows? The important thing is we have the goods, we control the market.”  
Eman grinned. “Oh yes, we certainly do.”  
They laughed cruelly and Yan clapped his companion on the shoulder. “I wonder what the Havenites will do when they find out what we’ve done?”  
“Who cares? Any people as gullible as they are get what they deserve!”  
Walking back to the open hidden door, Yan stepped into shadow. “I’m going to enjoy watching Picard’s education.”  
“If it’s as much fun as tattooing him, then I will too.” Eman pointed to the isolinear chip in Yan’s hand. “I hope the vid feed on that is crystal clear. Did you see his face when I ran the inker over his cock?”  
They laughed again and Yan shook his head. “Oh, it brought a tear to my eye!”  
“Set the meeting up, I’ll join you later.”  
Yan nodded good naturedly. “Until then.”  
The door slid silently closed and Eman smiled. “Now, captain. Time to begin.”

Beverly and Katya were both asleep when the wall beside them shimmered and disappeared. Whether it was the sudden change of atmosphere, temperature, or the innate sense of being watched mattered not, the result was both women woke. It was Katya who responded first, moving to protect her commander, but Beverly placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, saying quietly, “It’s all right, Katya.”  
Blinking in the brighter light, Beverly found herself looking up at two tall Havenite males, each dressed in matching cream tops and trousers. They had brown leather sandals on their feet, and one carried a short, black tubular instrument of some kind. He lifted the tube, and the tip glowed an angry red. The women understood it was some kind of pain stick.  
As Beverly struggled to her feet, she accepted Katya’s help.

“Who are you?” Beverly demanded. “Why are we being held captive? Where are my children, my husband?”  
Nothing was said as the men took an arm each and led the women from the cell. It was difficult for Beverly to walk and she was grateful when the men allowed Katya to again help her.  
The Havenites refused to answer any of Beverly’s many questions, instead delivering them in silence to a brightly lit room, painted on all sides, including the ceiling and floor, in startlingly white paint. Two vivid lights blazed from the roof and in the centre stood a bare metal examination table. Beside it was a movable trolley on which rested several medical instruments and devices.  
Standing by the table was Doctor Hu. Beverly offered a tentative smile, but when it wasn’t returned, she frowned, wondering just what was going on. The guards led them to the table and Katya was urged to lie upon it. She resisted, but calmed when Beverly said quietly, “Don’t, Ensign. I think they want to help.”

She looked at Hu and said, “That’s right isn’t it, Doctor? I’m sure you mean no harm.”  
By way of answering, Hu merely bowed his head. The light was so bright the skin that showed through the bristles of his hair gleamed.  
Having been referred to by her rank told Katya things had changed, that some subtle shift had taken effect and she understood that she should be alert. But, faced with an unknown future in the hands of a seemingly hostile Havenite doctor, she decided to make her own assessment.

Hu ran a scanner around her head and was about to put it aside when Beverly asked, “What have you found? Is there a fracture?”  
Hu glared and one of the guards stepped over and gripped the back of Beverly’s neck, squeezing until she groaned, “All right!” she gasped. She was released and she massaged the sore spots.  
Hu ran a dermal fuser over the nasty wound on Katya’s head, then injected her with something. It was obviously a painkiller as the lines of pain that had graced Katya’s face faded. At a curt gesture from Hu, the women swapped positions. Now lying on the table, Beverly looked up at Hu and summoned a smile.  
“Slightly different circumstances to our last meeting, eh, Doctor?” It was meant kindly but provoked an immediate response. Hu issued some sharp commands in Haven’s indigenous language and Beverly was surprised when the guards left. Surprise quickly turned to alarm when the Havenite doctor picked up an old-fashioned scalpel from the trolley. He stooped and pulled up the hem of Beverly’s shirt, then placed one hand flat on her exposed skin the other hand poised and ready to cut.  
As Beverly tensed, Hu whispered, “I will not harm you, Doctor Picard. Be still and listen to me, there are recording devices in the room, but not sensitive ones. The guards believe I am going to punish you for speaking. I would appreciate it if you would scream. Loudly and convincingly.”

Trying to assimilate what was happening, Beverly did nothing. Hu gently prompted, “Please, Doctor Picard. If you do not scream, I will have to really cut you.”  
That was enough incentive for Beverly to open her mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream. At Hu’s silent urging she screamed again and again, until her voice broke. Hu offered a smile and a nod, then whispered, “Very good, Doctor.”  
Beverly swallowed, grimacing at the pain it caused her raw throat. “My husband? Children?”  
“Of your children I know nothing, but your husband is here, in this building.”  
“Where?” Beverly asked urgently, feeling a rush of hope.  
“I don’t know.”

Processing the information, Beverly asked, “And you? How are you involved? I take it you’re not a member of the group?”  
Hu’s eyes darted to the door. “No, I’m not, but I have convinced them that I wish to be. When Brother Yan and his party took over the resort, the staff were given an ultimatum. Either join or be incarcerated. I had overheard their desire to recruit your husband and I guessed, correctly as it seems, that they would force you to stay and I was concerned about you. So, I decided to pretend to wish to join.”  
Beverly’s smile was one of gratitude and admiration. Verbal thanks were unnecessary. “So, do you think Yan believes you?”  
“I’m not sure. Perhaps, but this...” He indicated his hand holding the scalpel. “...would go a long way towards convincing him of my sincerity.”  
With a terrible sinking feeling, Beverly knew that he was going to cut her.  
“Forgive me, Doctor, I will try to make it easy.”

Before either Beverly or Katya could react, Hu quickly drew the scalpel across Beverly’s lower stomach. She hissed and clenched her teeth but knew it hadn’t been a deep cut. Indeed, as Hu dabbed at the flowing blood with some gauze, he whispered, “Now I have a reason to treat you.”  
What he did next made no sense to Beverly. Instead of healing the wound, he scanned her and gave her an injection, using, as he did with Katya, an old-fashioned hypodermic syringe.  
He bent low with an instrument Beverly didn’t recognise. While near her neck he whispered, “I have given you a cellular growth inhibitor. Although, as you are well aware, it will stop all cellular growth, it will also stop the growth of the tumours. It is a stop-gap measure, as you know cellular growth is vitally important, but in the short term, I think it wise to halt the progress of your illness. At least until you can get free.”  
By the way in which he’d said the last few words, Beverly understood there was a subtext. On cue, she managed another anguished scream, then said, “Can you help us to escape?”  
“Yes.”  
“All of us?”

His eyes darting about, Hu shook his head. “I don’t think so. You, your companion and maybe your husband, but I simply don’t know where your children are ... and...”  
His implication was clear. He was putting himself in terrible danger and while he felt he may be able to liberate the adults, he wasn’t willing to risk all their lives by trying to free James and Elly as well.  
Beverly understood, of course, but there was no way she’d leave without her children. However, she was willing to go along with whatever Hu planned, hoping in the process she would get the chance to find, then rescue the children, provided Jean-Luc was with her too.  
“Okay, what do you want us to do?”  
“For now, nothing. I have things I must do before I get any opportunity to devise a cohesive plan. You will be taken back to your cell, but I will report to Yan that you require further treatment. I’m sorry, Doctor, but it’s the only way I’m going to be able to communicate with you.”  
Smiling, and hoping her dread didn’t show, Beverly whispered, “I understand.”  
Hu went to straighten, but Beverly surreptitiously caught his hand. He looked down questioningly.  
“If you get any chance ... the children...”  
He nodded, showing he understood.  
At Hu’s loud, barked command the guards returned. Although Beverly’s wound was only superficial, she acted as though it was a devastating injury. In fact, her debilitating limp and useless arm only helped her cause. The guards urged both women with prods and pushes but weren’t overly harsh.  
Once back in their cell, Beverly and Katya sat down and began to make plans. Now they had something to go on, hope sustained them where before they had begun to despair.

Jean-Luc had been kneeling on the stone floor far too long. The guards had positioned him. Kneeling, backside on his heels, his feet balanced on his toes, hands flat and resting on his thighs, head bowed. His body was aching and the desire to get to his feet was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. But of course ,he dare not move. Far too much was at stake to allow mere physical discomfort to have any bearing on matters.  
He’d been able to get a quick look around the room before the guards forced him down and pushed his head forwards. It wasn’t large and was lit by a single recessed light. In front of him were a chair and a stand holding an unremarkable looking book. Behind the chair the wall had been painted white and the same symbol seemed to blaze, it was so brightly coloured.  
Jean-Luc wondered how his body would look so decorated. It seemed absurd and he couldn’t quite grasp the image. Just as he stared down at his torso the door opened and Eman strode in, bringing with him the faint smell of incense.  
His education was about to begin.

His first mistake was to look up at Eman. Instantly there was a whistling noise and something thin and flexible struck him across his back. At first there was no pain, but then in a line right across his back it felt like he’d been burned. His back arched and breath hissed through his clenched teeth. Before he could recover, he was whipped again. This time a guttural yelp was torn from him.  
“The punishment for any infraction is two stripes.” Jean-Luc heard the pronouncement but did not open his eyes.  
Mouth hanging open and eyes screwed shut, Jean-Luc waited until the flare of agony passed. It did and settled into a bright pulsing beat and he felt thin trickles of blood sliding down the sweaty skin of his back.  
“I do hope we won’t have to chastise you too much. I do so find it disagreeable.” Eman said affably.  
Jean-Luc resisted the urge to lift his head and glare at his tormentor.  
“I’ve been reliably informed that you are considered intelligent ... for a human. Let’s see if that’s true. Listen carefully.”  
For the next two hours, Eman read from the book. To Picard it was utter nonsense, a mixture of dogma, a melange of mythical legends from various sources and from several species and the most preposterous and audacious re-interpretations of the standard religious texts of earth’s major beliefs.

If it weren’t for his dire circumstances, he would have laughed out loud. However, any thoughts of amusement vanished when Eman stopped his monotonous recitation and asked abruptly,  
“That covers the beginning, what the Enlightened One calls the Inception. How do you perceive this? Tell me how it resonates with you personally and with you in our society?”  
Jean-Luc was dumbstruck. How the hell did this fool expect him to give thoughtful, reasonable comment on such utter drivel? It was insane. And yet, what choice did he have?  
Ordering his thoughts, he swallowed to wet his mouth and began. He’d only managed three sentences when he was savagely whipped four times.  
“Unacceptable!” Raged Eman, bending over Jean-Luc. The shouted word had momentarily drowned out the terrible, strangled high-pitched keening sound coming from Jean-Luc as he struggled to stifle his vocal reaction to the searing pain. “Have you not listened to a word I’ve said? Cur! You are not worthy!”

Spinning on his now shoe-clad foot, Eman stalked to the symbol on the wall and bowed low.  
“Forgive him, Enlightened One. His poor underdeveloped brain has not yet reached our level of understanding.” Eman bowed again and his next words made Jean-Luc close his eyes with dread. “I will make it my personal mission to bring him into the light!”  
Blinking away the moisture that had gathered in his eyes, Jean-Luc only knew Eman had returned to him when he saw his shoes and lower legs.  
“The Enlightened One is compassionate. We will make allowances for your primitive brain. Think carefully, initiate. What was Kerron trying to tell us in the Inception? What is the message?”  
Jean-Luc had, in the course of his life-long interest in archaeology and history, become very familiar with the basic precepts of most of the Federation’s ancient main-stream religions and a few from worlds beyond the Federation, and he knew there was a general thread, a common ideology shared almost without exception. It was this knowledge he now drew on.  
Faced with the inability to make any sense of the confused, jumbled and often contradictory reading he had listened to, he marshalled his thoughts and proceeded to say what he hoped would be accepted. The alternative was something he didn’t wish to ponder.  
“The basic principle of the Inception is the indisputable existence of the innate dignity of the inner soul and the redemption gained from offering that soul to the glory of the Enlightened One, thereby achieving immortality in the Kingdom of The Great Dome.”  
He had taken the language of the book and seeded it into his broad encapsulation. In the ensuing silence, he tried to brace himself for what he was sure would be more brutal strikes.  
Nothing happened.  
He dare not look up and sweat slowly tricked down the sides of his face to drip from his lightly stubbled chin. At some sign he didn’t see, strong hands gripped his elbows and hauled him to his feet. Having been on his knees for so long, he’d lost the circulation in his legs and could hardly stand. The hands held him upright while Eman turned and retrieved something from a theretofore hidden small storage box.  
It was the inker.  
At first, Eman said nothing as he worked on Jean-Luc’s tattoo, but after ten minutes he smiled and sighed, saying wistfully, “I remember my teacher inking me. I was so happy; I could barely stand. I see you feel the same way.”  
Wisely, Jean-Luc said nothing. His back was a fiery swathe of stinging pain, moving to his feet had disturbed the open welts and blood once again dribbled in thin lines. Added to that was the sharp burning sensation of the inker and his loudly complaining knees and feet. 

Jean-Luc’s torso, front and back, was alive in a way he wished he’d never experienced before and hoped would never again. Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely.  
Finishing with a flourish, Eman stood back and admired his work, offering with a grand gesture for Jean-Luc to look at himself. As he tucked his chin in and inspected the work, Eman said chattily, “The first colour is always red. It represents the soul, the lifeblood. You will carry it with you always to remind you of your commitment, the beginning of your journey. Today, you have taken an important step, one that will lead you to Glory. Be thankful and pay appropriate obeisance.”  
Hands on his shoulders pushed him back to his knees and he grimaced at the renewed pain. Jean-Luc had absolutely no idea what was required and hesitated. Two vicious strikes from the whip had him frantically searching for some kind of clue, anything!  
He was as fearful of making the wrong move as he was of doing nothing. Just when he felt he must surely be whipped again, Eman’s foot lifted and hovered just off the floor. The meaning was clear, and Jean-Luc gritted his teeth in humiliation. Bending low and placing both hands on the floor, he kissed Eman’s foot.  
The soft voice was in such stark contrast to the earlier cruelty that Jean-Luc had serious difficulty in believing it came from the same person. “Well done, initiate. I am proud of you.”  
Hands ... Eman’s hands, insinuated themselves under Jean-Luc’s armpits and eased him to his feet. Drenched in sweat, his back covered in hideous open welts and oozing blood, Jean-Luc presented a pitiful sight. And yet he stood proudly, his chin up, shoulders square, refusing to surrender what remained of his dignity. Eman smiled and inclined his head, his voice gently rebuking.  
“Pride is a terrible folly, initiate. You will learn it will bring nothing but torment.” At a glance to the guards, Eman let go of Jean-Luc and waited until the men had taken him under their control.  
“Take him to his cell, cleanse him and leave him to rest.” To Jean-Luc he said, “We will begin again tomorrow. I suggest you consider carefully what you’ve learned, the transition from ignorance to enlightenment is a difficult one and you have much ahead of you. Rest well, initiate.”

Although it was very hard not to show any of the effects of his torture, Jean-Luc managed to walk steadily as he was led from the room. A short journey down a plain corridor brought the three to a closed door. One of the guards leaned forward, past Jean-Luc and opened it. With remarkable gentleness, the two tall Havenites stripped Jean-Luc of his briefs and, using two buckets of cold water and a soft cloth; washed him thoroughly.  
When he was offered nothing to wear, Jean-Luc risked asking, “Am I to remain naked?”  
The guards looked at each other and one smiled. “Until you reach an appropriate level of instruction, you will be unclothed at all times, except when undergoing scripture education. At that time, it is considered unholy to expose your reproductive organs. Because you are considered impure, the holy words you will be exposed to would be sullied if you were to be naked when you received them. When you have achieved enlightenment, then your body will be celebrated. At that time, the Enlightened One’s name will be added to His canvas and you will be complete.”  
Jean-Luc correctly assumed that the guard was referring to the tattoo and the final adding of the name within the double circle on his belly. Presumably, the tattoo would be complete by then and fully coloured.  
The guards left and Jean-Luc had just enough time to see that the only place to rest was a low bare wooden cot. There were no blankets. The solitary light went out and Jean-Luc had to feel for the cot before he gingerly lay down on it.  
Hungry, exhausted and in pain, he curled up on his side and tried to think of a way to find and rescue his family.

Despite her earlier enthusiasm with what Dr. Hu had imparted, as the hours wore on in their dim stone cell, Beverly’s spirits slowly waned. With the ever-present pain dogging her and the gut-wrenching worry over her husband and children, Beverly began to descend into depression.  
Katya, having noted her boss’s ever-increasing reticence, had all but given up on conversation, but she was aware of what was happening. The darkness of depression was affecting her too. The analgesic Hu had administered had long lost its effectiveness and the headache had returned, but even so, Katya knew Beverly was suffering more.  
She sighed gently, her mind struggling as she contemplated just how tormented the redhead must be. The young woman had overheard some of what Hu had said when treating Beverly and the human doctor had divulged everything on the return to their cell. Now, armed with all the relevant information, Katya fretted about her fellow prisoner, agonising over what, if anything could be done.  
Knowing she must try to distract Beverly, Katya reached out and gently took hold of Beverly’s hand. Not turning her head, the younger woman kept her gaze fixed on the far wall saying softly, “Tell me about your wedding day.”  
Beverly was silent so long that Katya thought she wasn’t going to respond, but eventually Beverly sighed and cleared her throat. “We’d had a rather interesting time together on a planet called Delos.” Katya clearly heard sarcasm in Beverly’s tone. It caused her to refrain from asking the obvious, knowing the doctor would elaborate. “We had parted acrimoniously from the Enterprise, the captain opting to take an extended leave of absence due to our personal difficulties.” Her tone changed to reflect her remembered sadness. “I had no idea where he’d gone, but I knew I had to go after him ... to make amends.”  
Although she didn’t admit to causing the rift, Katya could hear the guilt and regret in her voice. “I eventually tracked him down on Delos. Ever heard of it?”  
“No.” Katya replied quietly.

“I’m not surprised, I hadn’t either, but our captain had. He’s quite the amateur archaeologist, Katya. In fact,” Beverly amended. “he’s more than an amateur. His long-time interest has led him to submit some very well received papers on the subject. He’s been on plenty of digs...” Beverly realised she’d digressed and gave herself a mental shake.  
“Anyway, I finally found him on Delos, predictably at a very interesting dig site. Trouble was, there were Cardassians on the planet too, and the curious thing was that they were at an archaeological site also, albeit on another part of the planet, but not all that far away.”  
Katya was intrigued enough to ask tentatively, “Was he happy to see you?”  
Beverly responded with a bark of laughter which she immediately regretted as it exacerbated her pain. It took a few moments for her to regain herself. “I’ll say he was!” she said firmly. “He’d been buried in an excavated trench and was almost dead by the time I got him out. It was sheer luck that I arrived when I did. Any later, and by that, I mean mere minutes later would’ve been too late.” Beverly glanced at her companion and saw the horror on her face.  
“The Cardassians?” she whispered.

“No.” Beverly smiled. “He’d dug the trench, but the weather changed, and it began to rain. The downpour caused the collapse.”  
“Wow.” Katya remarked, shaking her head. “So, it was mud that buried him? That’s even worse.”  
“Oh, yes.” Beverly agreed, barely suppressing a shudder. “It made resuscitating him more difficult too. The damned mud was in his mouth, nose ... everywhere.”  
A small silence settled as each woman contemplated the scenario. Beverly gave her head a shake and continued with her story. “Anyway, he recovered, and we managed to repair our relationship. Actually...” Katya heard the gentle emotion as Beverly added, “we finally took it to where it should’ve gone years ago. We became lovers and our connection solidified into profound love.”  
Katya shook her head in happiness, but her expression turned to one of shock as Beverly’s tone took on a hard edge. “Of course, as is usual for us, it all turned to hell, courtesy on the damned Cardassians.”  
“What happened” Katya asked, intensely curious. Not only was it proving to be an enthralling story, it was about two senior officers, one of whom enjoyed legendary status.  
“Actually, I’m being a little unfair to the Cardies.” Beverly muttered ruefully. We’d managed to keep clear of them, although I guess it was inevitable we’d have to deal with them eventually, but it was the mother of all storms that caused all the mayhem. It was a cyclone, an enormous cyclone the likes of which we’d never encountered before. Not anywhere, Katya, not just on Delos.”  
She sighed shallowly and shifted, trying to ease her pain. “I suppose it didn’t help that we had set up our campsite on a beach.” There was a hint of embarrassment in her voice and it made Katya grin.  
She felt confident enough to remark, “No Aussie would camp too close to a beach ... or too close to a river for that matter. At least not without keeping a very close watch on the weather reports.”  
Beverly grunted and gave a wave of her hand. “Of course, and we wouldn’t have either, but we had to be able to defend our position. Captain Picard had injured his right hand quite badly; he’d been trying to catch a fish in the shallows and had been spiked. The toxin was very potent, and it resulted in his hand being dreadfully affected and the rest of his body reacting badly too, so we needed to be near cold water. Luckily, there was a creek that flowed into the sea, so we had use of the potable water too.”  
“Sounds pretty dire.” Katya said quietly.

“It was. Our situation was tenuous enough before the storm. After? We both almost died.” Beverly sighed again. “The enormous seas and wickedly violent winds separated us, utterly destroyed our camp and drove us, along with all the other storm debris well inland and, of course, injured both of us significantly, although the captain more than me. We were left with no clean water, very little by way of food and almost no shelter. And added to that was the fact that the captain had severe internal injuries and was bleeding into his stomach at a rate I knew would soon kill him.”  
“Oh, god.” Katya muttered. She then asked, “What about the Cardassians?”  
Beverly snorted dryly. “Ah, the Cardassians.” Her tone became sardonic. “By the time we eventually encountered them, there were only two left. The storm had been as devastating for them as it was for us. I had the misfortune of meeting one of them as I foraged for food. We fought but he fell into a swollen river and disappeared. The other one attacked Jean-Luc later. We both fought him and eventually won, but not before he inflicted terrible injuries on the captain.”  
“God...” Katya’s tone was awestruck.

“Yep.” Beverly replied flatly. “The one who’d disappeared eventually reappeared and made himself known to us and requested a truce. We agreed, but with obvious reservations. Our scepticism was well founded and proven when he attacked the captain some days later. Captain Picard’s hand was improving, but he was still desperately ill, and he had multiple broken bones and was very weak. The Cardassian had been biding his time, waiting for a chance to kill the captain, then me.”  
Beverly voice trembled as she remembered. “Jean-Luc fought bravely, but the Cardassian was always going to win. Luckily, I returned to the camp in time to help. The captain had managed to injure his assailant and I was able to overcome him. I was lucky, I guess.”

Katya shifted, by now utterly enthralled. “So, what happened then? Were you rescued?”  
Beverly’s bitter laugh made the younger woman frown.  
“Nope.” Beverly sighed. “We’d found out what the Cardassians had been looking for because we’d found it by sheer dumb luck, and the captain had figured out it was something important, something we needed to hide from them. Trouble was an alien race, the ones who actually owned the item, had been watching and waiting the whole time and, having seen that the Cardassians were all dead, transported me and the captain to their ship and gave me the task of returning the artefact to them. And to sweeten the deal, they kind of implied that they wouldn’t heal the captain unless I complied.”  
“And did you?” Katya asked.

“Yes, eventually, but it wasn’t easy. We’d been on an island and the storm had completely altered it. Virtually everything, every landmark, every feature had been irrevocably altered and the artefact had been moved by the torrential rainwater. I thought I’d never find it, but I did. It was underground...” She shuddered with remembered dread and shook her head. “If not for the implied threat to Jean-Luc I never would’ve been able to get it.”  
Thankfully, Katya refrained for asking for details. Beverly’s tone was lighter when she continued. “So, I handed it over and Jean-Luc and I were transported up to our ship, the captain healed.”  
“Wow!” Katya muttered, momentarily forgetting she’d originally asked Beverly about her wedding day. Happily, Beverly hadn’t forgotten.  
“We made it back to the Enterprise and settled back into our familiar roles, but we both knew that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Jean-Luc, being the traditionalist he is, asked me to marry him and I, being a romantic at heart, accepted. We waited only long enough for me to be certain Jean-Luc had regained full health, the aliens had healed him, but it took some weeks for him to completely recover, and we married only five weeks after we’d returned.”  
“Five weeks?” Katya muttered. “Wow. That’s hardly enough time...”  
“Five weeks, and over thirty years, Katya.” Beverly sighed gently. “We have a long shared history. And I’d been married before, don’t forget. I didn’t want a big wedding and neither did the captain.”  
“So, what did you do?”

“We had a very small, very tasteful ceremony in holodeck 3 on the Enterprise. Counsellor Troi was my matron of honour and Commander Riker was Jean-Luc’s best man. The only other guests were the remainder of the senior staff.”  
“Who did the honours?”  
“An old friend of Jean-Luc’s and mine, a fellow captain.”  
Katya grinned, feeling the emotional warmth emanating from her fellow captive. However, she was a little shocked by Beverly’s final disclosure.  
“Neither of us knew I was pregnant at the time.”  
When Katya made no comment, Beverly shrugged. “I didn’t think I was still fertile, so I didn’t give contraception a thought.”  
Katya’s caution was understandable as she gently questioned, “The captain?”  
Beverly sent her a measured look, but decided the query was fair enough. “Captain Picard has a parthenogenic heart, he lost his original organ when he was in his early twenties. Because of the risk of rejection, he can’t use a contraceptive implant.”  
There was little Katya could say about that, despite being very curious about the story behind her captain’s loss of his heart, so she remained silent. Beverly, though, had found the reminiscence helpful in distracting her from her increasing pain. “Here’s a question for you.” she said with amusement. “What do you think the captain wore to our wedding?”  
That caused a frown to mar Katya’s brow. “What did he wear?” she mused out loud. “Um ... his uniform?” She then snapped her fingers. “No, not his duty uniform. His dress uniform!”  
“Nope.” Beverly chuckled.

“That’s not fair. You said he was a traditionalist.” Katya muttered, her eyes narrowing.  
“I did, that’s true.” Beverly agreed happily. “But he loves me, Katya, to a level I doubt I could adequately describe. He wore a very simple civilian outfit, but one he knew held a particular significance for me. Now I won’t go into details, suffice it to say, whenever he wears that outfit...” Beverly sighed and shook her head while fanning herself. “Rarely have I ever seen a man I consider so handsome ... and so damned sexy as him.”  
Katya chuckled, Beverly’s declaration came as no surprise, Katya agreed whole heartedly. She did want to know about the outfit though. “So, what did he wear?”  
Beverly’s sigh was a wistful one. “He wore a crisp white business shirt and dark blue silk tie and dark blue fitted trousers with soft leather black shoes. However, the first time he wore that outfit there was no tie and he’d left the shirt collar undone and had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The fact he buttoned the collar wore the sleeves down and cuff linked and wore a tie was his concession to tradition.”  
“And the ceremony?” Katya asked quietly.

Beverly tilted her head. “You mean was it a concession to tradition, or are you asking me to describe it?”  
“Both.” Katya said through a grin.  
“Ah.” Beverly said with her eyebrows raised. “Well, there were the legal aspects, of course, but we managed to embroider a little of our own tastes into it. Our vows, for instance. Though not overly flowery or sentimental, they imparted what we wished to say ... to declare to each other.” Beverly’s head bumped the wall gently as she leaned it back to stare at the ceiling. “Both Counsellor Troi and Commander Riker had the opportunity to add their sentiments as well.”  
Katya clearly heard the emotion in Beverly’s voice when she said softly, “Even though it was my wedding, I can honestly say I’ve never attended one so beautiful. And at its end … when he kissed me...”  
Beverly’s voice trickled to a stop and Katya heard her soft sniff and saw her hand raise to brush away her falling tears. “Have you ever been in love, Katya?” Beverly asked quietly.  
The younger woman sighed. “Not like that.”

“Well I hope one day you find a person who’ll love you like Jean-Luc loves me and that you love that person as I love him.”  
There followed a long silence before Katya asked, “What did you wear?”  
The woman was surprised when her innocuous question drew a wicked laugh from her companion. “Oh, not what I wanted to wear, that’s for sure, but even so, what I wore caused the captain significant problems!”  
“I don’t understand.” Katya said, shaking her head. “Why didn’t you wear what you wanted to?”  
Beverly tried to hide her salacious smile by lowering her head, but she couldn’t disguise the mischief in her voice. “Like Jean-Luc, I’d wanted to wear an outfit that held a special significance for him, but unfortunately it wasn’t something that’d be considered appropriate for a wedding. In fact,” Beverly laughed outright. “It couldn’t be worn in any public setting!”  
“Oh.” Katya chuckled, finally understanding. “Ok, so?”

“Well,” Beverly laughed again. “There was an outfit I knew he really liked, and it was appropriate, but only just ... so I wore it, although If there had’ve been more guests I probably wouldn’t have dared. It was an emerald green sheath, made of a very exotic, alien material which changed hues as it picked up my emotional ambience. It was cut low front and back and split up quite high on both sides. He didn’t know I was going to wear it, I guessed, correctly as it turned out, that he thought I wouldn’t dare, but...” Beverly shrugged. “It was my wedding!”  
Katya laughed, shaking her head.  
“As I entered the garden setting that’d been created, Commander Riker gave the captain the signal he could turn to see me.” Beverly snorted and lifted her hand to her mouth. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this.”  
Katya gaped. “You can’t stop now!”  
A long laugh followed before Beverly regained control. “Ok ... but you must promise to never divulge or ... god forbid ... make any comment that lets the captain know I’ve told you.”  
“Ok!”

“The second his eyes took in what I was wearing, a certain part of his anatomy began to respond very quickly.”  
“No!” gasped a scandalised Katya.  
“Yep.” Beverly giggled. “It was very flattering, Katya, a man like Jean-Luc, a man known for his legendary control was unable ... was totally helpless in gaining control over his very physical reaction to what I was wearing ... for him.”  
“So, what did he do?”  
Beverly shrugged. “Nothing. There was nothing he could do. If he’d concentrated on anything to rectify the situation, he’d be distracting himself from what was going on and that I knew he wouldn’t do. He was totally involved, Katya, our wedding was of utmost importance to both of us, and he wasn’t going to be side-tracked by the blatant physical sign and totally understandable reaction such as he had. It did subside a bit by the time the ceremony was drawing to its end, but it never completely ... deflated.”  
“No one said anything?” Katya was shocked.  
“No.” Beverly shrugged. “What was there to say? It wasn’t as if anyone stared, Katya. These were our dearest friends, people who’d known us for years and knew of our convoluted history and the fact we’d loved each other for years. They knew what it must’ve taken for the captain to lose control like he did. Mentioning it would’ve cheapened it ... made it somehow tawdry and creepy when the opposite was true. It was a testament of our deep friendship with those present that it was ignored.”  
Beverly’s mood changed and she giggled again. “I will tell you what Commander Riker said to the captain when I entered the setting, though.”  
Katya grinned widely.  
“He saw me before the captain and he knew the dress was going to have quite some effect on the groom, though I seriously doubt he would’ve guessed just how much of an effect...” she chuckled again. “anyway, he muttered in the captain’s ear ... Red Alert!”  
Katya snorted and remarked saucily, “He should’ve added, ‘Shields Up!’”  
“Ha!” Beverly barked, then said lasciviously, “Well the weapon was certainly brought online.”  
Both women dissolved in giggles before eventually settling once again. “It was a wonderful day.” Beverly said quietly, bringing the discussion to a close. Ten minutes later they were taken from the cell again.

It had taken a long time for Jean-Luc to find sleep. As much as he wanted to toss and turn, he couldn’t, it simply caused too much pain. As well as the cuts across his back, which opened and seeped blood every time he moved, the tattooed skin was uncomfortable and there was still tenderness in his testicles. All the running he’d done hadn’t helped in that regard. So, when uncaring hands grabbed him and pulled him unceremoniously from his bare wooden bed, he let out a yelp of surprise, anger, and pain.

Not yet fully awake he was totally unprepared for the four vicious strikes across his back and buttocks. His hands quickly curled into fists and he got as far as raising them when a strike across his face stopped him. He felt the whiskered skin of his right cheek split and blood flow freely down his face to drip off his jaw, splattering on his chest and the floor.  
“The initiate will lower his hands and show proper respect!” said the now familiar cold, cruel voice. Screwing his eyes shut, Jean-Luc, showing remarkable grace, sank to his knees, ignoring the pain from the already bruised flesh as his joints took his weight. Summoning all of his dignity, he bent forward and briefly opened his eyes to focus on his target. The foot appeared in his vision and he placed a soft kiss on the toe of the shoe. While his body was bent, four more strikes were laid across his back. Jean-Luc couldn’t contain the groan of pain the escaped his throat, nor could he control the flinch each vicious blow caused. He was hauled to his feet and he did try to stand up straight, but when a rough hand reached in and squeezed his still tender testicles he gasped, and his knees buckled involuntarily.

The hand increased the power of its hold and Jean-Luc’s eyes opened and filled tears. Cold, dark eyes bored into his, no hint of pity or sympathy evident.  
“The initiate will stand straight and show proper respect.” The tormentor said mildly. Jean-Luc whimpered and said, “Please...”  
If he thought his plea would bring any reduction of pain, he was sadly mistaken. The hand now increased its grip until Jean-Luc began to sob. He retched and sagged, he only remained on his feet because hands held him up.  
“It really is quite simple.” the taunting voice said. “The initiate will stand and show proper respect. If the initiate wishes the encouragement to ease, or indeed, cease altogether, then he must obey.”  
“I can’t...” whimpered Jean-Luc, piteously. “Please, stop ... please...”

He heard a deep sigh, but the voice remained coldly conversational. “Then your suffering will continue. It’s entirely up to you, initiate, you’ve no one to blame but yourself for your continued torment.”  
Five horrendous minutes passed as Jean-Luc endured the agony of his already sore testicles being remorselessly crushed in the uncompromising grip. His tormentor must have become bored because when he next spoke it was with dangerous impatience. “Very well.” he said coldly. “As you are only just beginning your journey to enlightenment, I will offer you some assistance.”  
Without warning he pulled Jean-Luc’s scrotum upwards, effectively dragging Jean-Luc upright. The hapless man had no option but to rise up on his toes to try and ease the hideous agony it caused. “Ah!” the voice crowed in mock cheerfulness. “See? I told you, you could do it!” The tone changed to menacing again. “Now, just show proper respect and this unpleasantness will cease.”  
Quite apart from the unbearable pain and nausea he suffered, Jean-Luc had no idea how he was to exhibit his respect. He understood he had to stand up straight, but no one had instructed him on how to show his respect from this position.  
He desperately accessed his mind and quickly found the only appropriate gesture he thought would suffice. He stood as straight and he could, then placed his hands together, palms flat as if in prayer, and then lifted his hands to just under his chin.  
There was an ominous silence broken by the whistling of whatever was used to strike his back. Four more cuts opened across his skin before the voice remarked mockingly, “That is the wrong gesture, initiate, but consideration has been made as to your ignorance and the fact you seemed to have made a respectful gesture despite that.”  
Thankfully, the being released his testicles. The agony that immediately bloomed was just as bad as the initial torture. He was given no time to recover. The hands tightened their grip of his upper arms and he was propelled out of his room his feet stumbling as he was all but dragged along.

His next instruction was undertaken in a blur. More meaningless text was read and once again, Jean-Luc was expected to offer his verbal assessment and observations. He barely managed but it was obviously enough as his tattoo received more coloured ink.  
He was then taken to a large bare room that had one long table in its centre. He was seated and, although there were several seats down each side of the table, he was the only one, other than those who had brought him there, to be seated. Within moments a hooded figure appeared and placed a metal bowl and spoon in front of him. Although he’d worn briefs during his instruction, he was now once again naked.  
His scored back still oozed blood and serum, but somehow, he’d avoided any further punishments. His face was a different story though. The cut was quite deep and bled almost continuously. Jean-Luc frowned as he felt the slow dripping of blood onto his chest and now upper thigh as he sat at the table, idly wondering if such an unpleasant display was going to be tolerated. As it turned out, it wasn’t.  
His instructor came in and strode purposefully over to the seated human. Jean-Luc had to control his urge to cringe. The hand that gripped his pate was powerful enough to hurt, so Jean-Luc offered no resistance as it turned his head, then tilted it back.  
“You are offending the Enlightened One with your grotesque display. How dare you bleed when about to take in sustenance?”  
Jean-Luc never got the chance to answer. He was hoisted up and off the seat and dragged out of the room. His journey was a quick one and he soon found himself in some sort of bathroom, although a very austere one. He was roughly pushed onto a bare stool, and then his instructor grabbed his head again. 

“You will sit still while I remove the disgusting hair from your face and neck.”  
Panic lanced through Jean-Luc. He knew with certainty that his instructor would be brutal, that he was in for more pain, but he was particularly worried about the deep cut to his cheek. It would be far too easy to make the wound much worse. He had no time to react though. Something that stung his skin quite badly was slopped on, but when the liquid reached the cut his breath whistled through his teeth. It was excruciatingly painful.  
His eyes filled with tears as the cruel hand forced his head way back, making it difficult for Jean-Luc to even swallow. The first pass of what he could only guess was some kind of blade scraped and pulled at his whiskers.  
He kept his eyes closed as the cold voice remarked, “I don’t know how you live with this revolting hair that sprouts all over your body. Once you achieve enlightenment you will have to have it all removed. Kerron will not look upon such an ugly, distasteful being. In the meantime, I’m happy to help you rid yourself of your facial hair.”  
His tone was at complete odds with his actions. The blade was dragged haphazardly up, down and across Jean-Luc face and neck. He felt his skin being repeatedly nicked and cut and when the tormentor scraped the blade across the wound on his cheek, he couldn’t contain a cry of pain as he felt the skin tear.

“Oh, now look at what you’ve done!” his tormentor tutted coldly. “More mess! I hope you understand when I tell you that it will be your responsibility to clean every trace of your blood from here and the dining room.” The being sighed theatrically. “It is simply unacceptable for those here in this facility to be confronted with the evidence of your inability to control the more disgusting processes of your body.”  
Jean-Luc was shocked. How on earth should he be blamed for bleeding because his tormentor had injured him? It made no sense whatsoever, in fact none of his capture and incarceration made any sense. Angry at his situation and the injustice of his punishments, Jean-Luc shook his head forcefully, dislodging the hand that gripped it.  
He heaved himself to his feet and bared his teeth. “Enough!” he shouted. “What do you want with me? Where are my family and my children’s...” He got no further. A fist drove hard into his kidney, causing him to arch his back in agony. With his front unprotected he never had the chance to ward off the three devastating blows to his solar plexus.  
He dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe while he retched in distressed agony and misery. The instructor squatted beside the suffering man and tut tutted again. “I was under the impression you possessed a modicum of intelligence, initiate. It seems I was wrong. You have five minutes to get control of yourself, then you are required to clean up the mess you made here, and in the dining room. Your efforts will be thoroughly inspected. I caution you ... don’t disappoint me, you will find it most unpleasant if you do.”

Having issued the dire warning, the being left with the two assistants. Jean-Luc curled into a ball, doing his best to calm his breathing and get control over his agony. He had no way to measure the passing minutes, but eventually he managed to get to his knees and begin to find a way to clean up his own blood. It took a long time before he felt the bathroom was clean enough. He then struggled to his feet and, using the walls as a support, made his way to the dining room, remembering to be careful to clean up any errant blood drops on the way. It seemed like hours before he was finally finished. He dropped onto a seat, exhausted, and totally dispirited.

Having reminded Beverly to maintain the illusion of severe pain, Doctor Hu administered another pain killing injection. Bent low, so he could whisper near her ear, Hu explained the he was making some headway in his efforts to find the cause of her tumours; the Havenite medic informed Beverly that he was confident he’d soon have success in treating the growths.  
Unfortunately, he could offer little by way of relief from the spreading paralysis, but Beverly knew he was doing his best. She hesitated to ask her next question, not really feeling strong enough to hear his reply, but she was too good a doctor to put her own fears ahead of information she needed to have.

“Once you’ve found the cause and you administer the treatment, are you confident you can reverse the paralysis?”  
Hu glanced up and then straightened. Sending Beverly a guarded look, he went to a wheeled trolley and spent a moment or two while he seemed to contemplate which instrument to use. Having made his choice, he selected a pair of long, needle pointed tweezers. He returned to Beverly and used his fingers to spread open the shallow cut across her lower abdomen he’d made previously.  
His quick, silent look told Beverly to react overtly, and she did, screaming loudly, but when he actually pushed the tweezers tips deeply into her flesh, she had no trouble making her performance a genuine one.  
Hu maintained a cold, indifferent expression as his patient screamed and it was only when she choked back a sob that he removed the tweezers from her flesh and went back to the trolley. When he next approached, he held an otoscope. Now with an obvious need to bend close again, Hu was quick to apologise. “I’m so sorry, Doctor Picard.” His distress was clear in his softly spoken words. “I have to be certain they think I have no qualms about hurting you.”  
Because Hu had turned her head away from the door and its camera, Beverly was able to reply breathily, “It’s all right, Doctor, I understand.”  
Hu fussed over his instrument, and then once again placed its tip in Beverly’s ear. “In answer to your question about your paralysis, I don’t know. If I had access to a hospital, I feel confident I could reverse it, but here? Under these conditions? I simply don’t know.”

Beverly gave that some thought, but before she could say anything further, Hu said quietly, “I don’t even know if I’m going to be permitted to heal you.”  
“Why?” asked Beverly, perplexed, and alarmed.  
“I’ve been ordered to treat you ... that is to do whatever I can to alleviate your symptoms. Nothing has been said about effecting a cure.”  
“But the paralysis...” Beverly whispered urgently.  
“I know, Doctor, but I’ve already told them that unless I treat you fully, that is to diagnose and successfully treat your condition, then trying to simply treat your symptoms is pointless.”  
Beverly remembered to moan loudly, then said, “But why would they want such a cosmetic treatment? It makes no sense.”  
“Cosmetic is a fair description, Doctor.” Hu said bitterly. “I can’t help but feel they’re only interested in appearances. For whatever reason, they seem to want you to look, on the outside at least, fit and well.”  
“But with a left-side paralysis.”  
Hu sighed. “Yes.”

Hu finished looking into her ear and straightened, gruffly ordering Beverly to turn onto her right side, once again facing away from the door. He retrieved another pair of tweezers and Beverly was quick to begin screaming. Hu took the opportunity to quickly tell Beverly that a plan was forming to mount an escape bid. He wouldn’t give any details, wishing to protect the identities of those who were assisting him, but he was able to tell Beverly he hoped to have something concrete in approximately seven days.  
Seven days. Beverly sighed inwardly, “Might as well be seven months,” she thought morosely.  
Her thoughts were interrupted as Hu muttered, “I’m finished for now, but forgive me, Doctor Picard, they’re going to want to see some blood.”  
Beverly yelled loudly as she gave a surreptitious nod. Hu again lightly ran a scalpel over the cut across Beverly lower abdomen, then used his fingers to push the edges apart. It did little damage but did cause an impressive amount of blood to appear.  
He gave Beverly shoulder a shove and snarled his order for her to leave the examination table. He then gestured curtly to Katya, brusquely pointing to the table in an obvious order for her to take Beverly’s place. He did much the same things to her, but without the clandestine conversation.  
He administered another dose of analgesic and checked her head wound. After quickly and expertly piercing a blood vessel under her arm, he gave her a shove and told her to leave he table. He turned his back as the assistants entered and took the two women back to their cell.

Lannit Yan turned his face to the left and used his fingers to stretch the skin around his mouth. Using the instrument he held in his left hand, he smoothed the oddly bunched and crimped skin, his eyes narrowing as the skin took on a more natural look. His attention shifted as the voice of his co-conspirator came from behind him.  
“I’ll be so glad when we can finally rid ourselves of these ridiculous disguises.” he sighed. Yan nodded his agreement and, after one final inspection of his face, placed the instrument back in its holder and turned to face his visitor.  
“I agree, Twenth. I have to admit I didn’t realise just how humid the climate here is. My face itches so badly at times...”  
Twenth grunted, his expression sour. “Still,” his face adopted a cold grin. “At least I can take my discomfort out on Picard.”  
Yan barked a cruel laugh. “Indeed. I’ve seen the vids...” he laughed again. “Very amusing, Twenth, very entertaining.”  
Offering a small bow, Twenth’s grin widened. “I must say I do enjoy tormenting him. Watching him try to maintain his pride and dignity ... yes, you’re right; it is very amusing and very entertaining.”  
Yan chuckled and shook his head before sobering. “I’ve been giving some thought to your idea of using him to breed with, Twenth.”  
The taller being raised his eyebrows. “And?” he asked with hopeful interest.

Yan smiled in an almost paternal way. “I think it has merit. In fact, I think we should get the process underway as soon as possible. Considering how long it takes for humans to gestate, the sooner we can get a return on our investment, the better.”  
Twenth rubbed his hands together, his excitement obvious. “Oh, this is going to be very profitable, Lannit. Just think, we can legitimately advertise the genuine offspring of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. We’ll be able to name our price.”  
“I agree, Twenth. And as long as Picard himself stays alive, then his offspring will hold their value. And that, my friend, will greatly inflate Picard’s value. Whoever eventually purchases him will be able to use Picard’s offspring to keep him under control.”  
Twenth’s expression darkened. “We’ll have to draw up a contract for his owner though. There’ll have to be a time limit on them if they want to use him for breeding.”  
Yan grunted and gave his companion an appraising look. “Good thinking, Twenth. We don’t want the market flooded.”  
“Hmm.” Twenth grumbled. “Maybe we should use his wife too ... or even get some more human women?”  
Lannit gave that a momentary thought, and then shook his head. “No, I think it best if we stick with what we’ve got, although you’re probably right about his wife. With us already holding two of their offspring, a third or fourth might be quite lucrative. We could advertise them as a matched group.”

Twenth shrugged his wide shoulders. “We could always manipulate the pregnancy ... make sure it’s a multiple.”  
This time Yan looked at his partner with open admiration. “Twenth, you are a genius.” Both beings laughed, then Yan thought of something. “So, how are you going to get Picard to impregnate the assistant? From what I know of humans, once they’re committed to one partner, they can be averse to having sex with any other.”  
Twenth shrugged again. “I’ll probably use a combination of drugs and coercion. I’m sure once he sees his wife under threat ... or his brats, or...” he laughed coldly, “all three ... he’ll comply.”  
“And the female?” Yan’s eyes gleamed.

Twenth’s smile was predatory. “Who cares? It’s not as if she has any say in the matter. She’ll do as she’s told.”  
“Hmm.” Yan grunted. “It might be a good idea to prevent her from communicating with Picard while he fucks her. It would be unfortunate if she managed to talk him out of it. Or...” Yan sneered. “or he loses the ability to get it up.”  
“That’ll be one of the drugs I’ll give him. Don’t worry, Lannit. He’ll be hard, and the females will be fertile. I’ll have our tame doctor start their drug regimen now. By this time tomorrow they should be ripe.”  
Clasping the taller male on the shoulder, Lannit offered a warm smile. “I knew I chose well in selecting you for this venture, Twenth. Now go and amuse yourself some more with Picard. We can watch the vids together later and have a good laugh.”  
“Agreed. See you then.”

Having been found sitting idle on a stool in the dining room, the instructor wasted no time in punishing Jean-Luc for his perceived crime. The inspection of his work yielded six vicious strikes with the ferule making the skin of Jean-Luc’s already badly damaged back even more painfully lacerated. By the time he endured more inking he was almost sobbing with pain and exhaustion. Only his innate dignity allowed him to control himself enough to stand up straight, his shoulders squared.  
The instructor noticed his victim’s efforts and had to admit, albeit silently, to a moment of grudging respect. He quickly brushed away such errant thoughts, however, as the tantalising promise of vast wealth banished any thoughts of considering his victim anything but a commodity ... and ultimately expendable. 

Whatever his eventual owners chose to do with him was of no interest to Twenth. As long as they had his offspring ... and, Twenth thought with a cold realisation, an ample supply of Picard’s semen, the latinum would continue to roll in.  
He finished his inking and rose, stepping back to admire his work. The tattoo was taking shape nicely, the colours blending beautifully and the admirable physique of the human helping to accentuate the design. Twenth’s eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he imagined Picard’s face when he saw Twenth had washed his tattoo off. “Ha!” Twenth laughed with silent glee. “You’ll find yours a bit harder to get rid of, Picard.”

The moment faded as the current situation came to the fore. Twenth gestured to his victim, saying was false concern, “You appear very tired, initiate. Learning about the Enlightened One is exhausting, I know, but your diligence will be rewarded, never fear. But...” he laid a paternal hand on Jean-Luc’s shoulder. “I feel you may benefit from some vitamin supplements. Come with me.”

As they walked, Twenth bent so he could say quietly, “What I’m about to condone is, strictly speaking, unlawful, but as you’ve made such a concerted effort to learn, and as you are hampered by your species’ natural reluctance to learn new things, I will make a concession just this once.”

He stopped Jean-Luc and whispered in his ear, “You must not tell anyone, though, initiate. If I find you’ve divulged what I’m about to do, I will punish you severely. Is that understood?”

Too tired to speak, Jean-Luc simply nodded. That brought about an immediate physical rebuke. He was slapped hard across his face, splitting his lip, and loosening some of his teeth. “You will show me proper respect by answering me in the acceptable way!” Twenth growled menacingly. 

Still seeing stars, Jean-Luc mumbled. “I understand, Eman.” The instructor merely nodded and gestured for Jean-Luc to follow him into a room. Barely had he entered when Twenth grabbed his arm and injected him with an old-fashioned hypodermic needle. Jean-Luc flinched, but managed to control himself enough to avoid further punishments.

“There.” Twenth said quietly, withdrawing the needle from Jean-Luc’s flesh. “I’m sure the boost these vitamins give you will be successful in making you pay attention in your lessons and absorb what you are being taught.” He smiled with faux warmth. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. If I feel you would benefit from another injection, I’ll administer it in the morning.” 

He went to the door, giving a plosive snort when Jean-Luc didn’t immediately realise he was to follow. “It seems it’s not working yet.” he sneered sarcastically. As Jean-Luc shuffled past him, Twenth aimed a hard slap at the back of his victim’s head. Jean-Luc staggered somewhat but endured the assault stoically.

He was taken to his room and told to rest. He didn’t need to be told twice. He tumbled into a troubled sleep as soon as he lay down. He never noticed his cock stiffening and leaking precome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carrying on from Love Through The Angst, Jean-Luc and Beverly, now married and with a family of their own, endure a devastating experience, with far-reaching consequences.

Beverly and Katya were surprised when the guards came for them only a few hours after they’d been taken to Hu. Their surprise turned to fear when they discovered they were being taken back to the Havenite doctor. This time it was Katya who was ordered to take her place on the examination table. Hu bent forward and took a fold of the skin near her hip, out of sight of the camera. He whispered, “I’m sorry.” as he pinched the fold hard and twisted it violently. Katya screeched and wrenched her body sideways in an effort to ease the intense pain. Hu snarled and barked, “You will lie still, or I will have the guards hold you down!”  
Katya heard the threat and, as she made a concerted effort to control her reactions, Hu continued with his farce. He eased his grip of her skin and bent low; his face contorted into a cruel mask. His words, however, belied his expression. “Again, I’m so sorry, but I have to give you important information. I will only tell you once and, please, do not ask me any questions, our time is very limited.” 

He pinched the tender skin again and Katya howled. When her voice silenced as she took a deep breath, Hu said urgently, “I’m about to inject both you and Doctor Picard with a potent fertility drug. The dose has been so vastly increased I would envisage you will attain full fertility within hours, regardless of what stage your cycle was at and no, I’ve not been told why this has been ordered, but it seems obvious to me that you will both be required to ... breed ... and soon.”  
He pinched again, and as Katya yelled, he straightened and retrieved the hypodermic syringe. The young woman whimpered as he injected her, then he brusquely ordered her to leave the exam table. Beverly was brought in and he injected her without preamble, and then shoved her roughly, indicating she should leave. It wasn’t until both women were back in their cell that Katya could tell Beverly all that Hu had told her.  
“Why the hell do they want us to fall pregnant?” Beverly shook her head as she massaged her forearm and hand, trying to get some feeling back. “They’ve got the entire population to breed with.” she snorted and grunted sourly. “Besides, they won’t have any luck getting me pregnant.”

When Katya made no comment, Beverly looked at her with squinted eyes. “What is it?” she asked kindly. Katya shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.” the young women said, trying for forceful, but falling woefully short of the mark.

Beverly clearly heard fear in her voice. “Katya, nothing can be gained by hiding things from each other.” she said with kind gentleness. “We’re in this together.”  
The younger woman sighed and brushed away some tears. “I’ve never felt I wanted kids.” she said softly. “It was a bone of contention between my parents and me, particularly my father. They felt that having come from a large family I’d be happy to have a brood of my own, but the truth is I don’t want any,” she sighed deeply and added in a strained whisper, “not even one.”  
Beverly wisely remained silent. After a moment, Katya continued, “I found that if I expressed that to anyone, I was always given the same old unsolicited adage…” her tone changed to one of derision. “You know the old assumption, once you meet the right person, of course you’ll want children.” She sighed again. “But although I’ve never been in love, not really, I still don’t want kids.” Katya sniffed and wiped at her nose. “And there’s the whole, I’m still a virgin thing.”  
“Oh.” Beverly muttered, her brow lowering.  
“Yeah, oh.” Katya said bitterly. “Despite my lack of maternal feelings, I’d still held the hope that I’d meet someone I felt I cared for enough to give that particular privilege to.” she sighed and punched her thigh. “Certainly not to some stranger and against my will. Rape is still rape, right? If I don’t consent?”  
“Damned right it is.” Beverly said with quiet fury. There followed a protracted silence as each woman contemplated their situation. Twice Beverly thought to say something, but ultimately realised the futility of the gesture. What could she possibly say? She too was facing the same outrage, the only difference being she was a mother already and her virginity had been lost long ago, and to a person of her choosing.  
They descended into a morose silence, neither woman noticing when they tumbled into a restless sleep. It was broken when they were roused and taken back to Hu who again injected them in cold, seemingly indifferent silence. There was nothing he could say either.  
By the time they’d had the third round of injections, they were fertile.

True to Twenth’s prediction, Jean-Luc was indeed injected soon after he woke. His resulting turgid erection puzzled him, as did the persistent and almost overwhelming sexual arousal that made it nigh impossible for him to control. He was bewildered and highly aroused as he was led into a room that had a bed and a large monitor and told to watch a screen.  
He did so, slack jawed, as pornographic images and clips were shown. His cock was throbbing with such strength that it moved up and down in synch with his heartbeat. Precome dripped from its end and Jean-Luc, the rational, caring, gentle man he was, simply disappeared.

Twenth quietly approached his victim and whispered seductively, “I bet you’d like to fuck something … or someone?”  
Jean-Luc nodded, mindless and consumed by lust. “I understand.” Twenth murmured. “And seeing as how you’ve been such a good initiate; I’m giving you a gift.”  
Jean-Luc’s head turned as he stared silently at his instructor, his eyes glazed and glassy.  
“I’ll just give you some more vitamins and you watch the screen. Your present will be brought to you soon.”

Jean-Luc felt nothing as Twenth injected him. His hands went to his iron-hard cock and began to stroke furiously. Twenth slapped his face hard, barking, “No! You will save that for your present. You are forbidden to waste any of your seed!”  
Jean-Luc ignored the being, baring his teeth as he masturbated quickly, desperate for release. At a gesture from Twenth, four burly assistants came in and forcibly put Jean-Luc’s hands behind his back where they were manacled. The wretched man howled in frustration, barely acknowledging Twenth as he purred, “It won’t be long, initiate. Have patience.”  
Jean-Luc panted raggedly, staring down at his weeping cock as if he could will himself to come. “Please … Eman, please…” he implored.   
Twenth simply laughed and patted Jean-Luc’s shoulder. “Soon.” was all he said before leaving the room, the sounds of Jean-Luc’s anguished cries ringing in his ears.

Katya was trembling as Hu approached in the company of a very tall Havenite. The doctor took Katya’s arm and squeezed it firmly. She stared at him; her eyes wide with fear. It was the tall being who spoke, however.  
“You are about to be injected with some drugs. They will achieve three things. You will feel relaxed, your body will become sluggish and your voice will cease to work. What is about to occur shouldn’t take long, perhaps ten minutes or so. Afterwards you will be taken back to your cell.”  
As the being had spoken, Hu had administered a large injection. It hurt, making Katya’s arm ache. She looked at the tall Havenite and said shakily, “What’s going to happen to me.”  
The being shrugged. “There is something we require of you and this … process … is necessary in order to achieve it.”  
When Katya tried to say more, she was shocked to find her voice was already nearly nonexistent. Fear made her try to pull away from Hu’s grip, but her body wouldn’t obey her. Just as her fear began to escalate into terror, a strangely unsettling calm descended. The Havenite doctor nodded to Twenth and he grinned. At a gesture, two assistants stepped forward and stripped her of her clothing and then took Katya’s arms before gently leading her into Jean-Luc’s room.  
The moment she entered, Jean-Luc’s eyes narrowed, and he growled softly. He took two steps towards the drugged woman before Twenth grabbed the manacles and held him back. “Not yet, initiate.” he said soothingly. “You must wait until we position her.”  
Katya was guided to the bed which was made of wood and had a thin mattress on the base. She was laid down and her legs parted wide. Despite her drugged state, fear flashed in her eyes. She glanced at her captain and tears formed as she saw his expression of uncontrolled, feral lust and the huge, visibly throbbing erection that jutted out from his groin.

Her mouth formed one word, but no sound emerged. No one cared anyway if she’d vocalized that one word. “No.” meant nothing in that room.  
Twenth bent to say in Jean-Luc’s ear, “Are you ready, initiate?”  
“Yes!” he growled, unfeeling of the pain in his wrists as he strained against the instructor’s hold of the manacles.  
“Then I will release you to spend yourself in the female as much and as often as you desire.”  
As the manacles fell to the floor, Jean-Luc rushed the short distance to the bed and all but pounced on the unfortunate Katya. He grabbed his cock and shoved hard, penetrating her brutally. Even held in the grip of the drugs, Katya’s body flexed, and her mouth opened in a silent scream.   
The power of Jean-Luc’s uncontrolled thrusts jerked her body up the bed until her head was pushed off the edge. That was when Jean-Luc bit her deeply as he came. His guttural growl was followed by a momentary pause before he began to thrust again.   
Twenty-five long minutes later a still fully erect man was hauled off his victim, struggling against the hands that held him, wanting to return to continue the rape. Blood and semen stained the mattress and falling tears had left an uneven patter of drips forming dark, circular blotches on the wooden floor beneath Katya’s dangling head.

Hu had been summoned and Twenth took a moment to study the shorter being. “I feel she has enough of his seed inside her, by my count he spent himself eight times.”  
Hu managed to keep his expression professionally detached. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, esteemed Eman, but with human males, if they ejaculate several times in succession, each subsequent emission will have ever-decreasing amounts of sperm present. I would guess that by the fourth or fifth ejaculation there would be little if any sperm in the ever-decreasing amounts of seminal fluid at all.”  
Twenth grunted and shrugged. “It matters not; I still feel he has provided enough.” he then grinned coldly. “For now.”  
Hu raised his eyebrows, doing his best to show respectful interest. “He will mate with her again?”  
“Indeed.” Twenth said smugly. “And the other … his wife.”

Hu’s façade almost slipped, but he caught himself in time. “Oh.” he swallowed and steadied his racing heart. “I’m not sure that’s a wise decision, Eman.”  
The taller being stared down at the doctor, his eyes cold and menacing. Hu quickly strove to explain himself. “Forgive me, esteemed Eman, but the other human woman,” Hu inclined his head towards Jean-Luc. “His wife, is unwell. Her illness involves a hormonal imbalance that has resulted in the appearance and growth of several tumours throughout her body, including her reproductive system. I seriously doubt she can achieve a pregnancy and even if she did, I cannot see it as being a viable one.”   
Twenth shrugged and pulled down the corners of his mouth. It was a mistake as the expression puckered the skin of his face oddly. Hu noticed but neither said anything nor allowed his surprise to show. “I don’t particularly care one way or another, Doctor. The Enlightened One, Kerron himself, has commanded this action and I…” he stared coldly at Hu, making his bowel threaten to loosen, “We will carry out those orders. Won’t we?”  
Hu nodded jerkily and jumped as Twenth placed a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, Hu, we have confidence in you and your abilities as a doctor. I’m sure you’ll find a way for her to achieve, and then gestate a successful pregnancy. After all,” Twenth squeezed Hu’s shoulder painfully. “you don’t want me to have to obtain another doctor, do you?”

Somehow Hu found a way to plaster a convincing smile on his face. “No, esteemed Eman, of course not. I’ll do my utmost to do as you wish.”  
Twenth’s face crumpled in an admonishing frown. “These aren’t my wishes, Hu, they’re Kerron’s.”  
Now desperate to get away from the menacing being, Hu almost blabbered his reply. “Yes! Oh, yes, of course! I didn’t mean to imply…”  
“No.” Twenth murmured indulgently. “Of course, you didn’t.” He maintained his long stare before gesturing to the door. “Off you go then, Hu, you have Kerron’s work to do.”  
Hu nodded and smiled as he scuttled backwards, then turned and fled. Twenth almost laughed aloud but managed to confine his mirth to a compassionate smile. He turned to his assistants and waved his hand. “Take the initiate to his room and shackle him to his bed but ensure he’s on his side. Once he is restrained, make sure he drinks a good quantity of water. At the rate he is sweating he must be thirsty.”  
Mere moments later Jean-Luc was lying on his side on his bed, both of his hands shackled to the same part of the bed frame. His head was held as an assistant poured water gently into his mouth. The still highly aroused man drank greedily, gulping the water as quickly as he could. When the helper had decided his charge had drank enough, he turned and, with his companion, left the room. Jean-Luc, desperate to assuage his overwhelming lust, thrust his hips to rub the end of his blood and semen coated cock on the rough wood of his bed. It only made his insidious need grow.

Beverly was growing frantic as Katya continued to silently weep. The drugs had slowly given up their hold over the young woman and, as each of the affected areas of her body regained their former state, so Katya curled into a ball and quietly wept. Beverly could see the blood and semen stains on Katya’s inner thighs and knew what had occurred. By the amount of blood and semen she could see, she assumed that Katya’s had been a victim of a gang rape. Of course, she didn’t know the truth and Katya was loath to tell her.

Using her one functioning hand, Beverly gently stroked Katya’s hair, and spoke softly, doing her best to offer solace. “I know it’s difficult to believe, Katya, but you will get over this. With time, the memories you have will fade.” Beverly sighed as Katya’s pitiful weeping intensified. “It won’t define you, Katya; it won’t rule your life. With the right help, you’ll move forward. This time, right now, will be the worst. From here, you’ll begin to heal.”  
Slowly, over an hour or so, Katya calmed, and her weeping ceased. In the brittle silence that followed, Beverly again tried to comfort the wretched young woman.   
“It would help if you told me about it, Katya. I know that sounds terrible, me asking you to describe what happened to you, but really, it does help to get it out in the open.” Beverly sighed shallowly. “If you bury it, bottle it up, even in these early stages, it’ll be that much harder in the future, and it may harm you in the long run. Tell me what happened.”  
Katya remained silent so long, Beverly was preparing another speech when the woman sighed and said tremulously, “What do you want to know?”  
Heartened by her companion’s courage, Beverly replied quietly, “How far did they take you?”

“Not far.” Katya answered softly. “Maybe 70 metres or so?”  
“And what did you find when you got to where they took you.”  
Katya swallowed and did her best to steady her voice. “Just a modest room that had nothing but a bed and a large monitor screen.”  
Beverly thought carefully about her next question. “And apart from you, how many people were there?”  
Katya couldn’t stifle the sob that escaped her. She took some time to regain control enough to speak. “Apart from me there were 7 people. There were four guards, two inside the room and two outside. A really tall Havenite and Doctor Hu.”  
“That’s six.” Beverly muttered, somewhat confused. “You said there were 7 apart from you.”  
“Yes.” was all Katya said.  
Beverly decided to try a different approach. “How many raped you, Katya?”

Again, there was a protracted hiatus as Katya struggled to control herself. “Just one.” she managed to say eventually. Realisation made Beverly gasp. “Oh. The seventh person.”  
“Yes.” was all Katya said again.  
“He was a Havenite?” Beverly surmised, but was shaken when Katya whispered, “No.”  
“No?” Beverly’s heart accelerated and her stomach soured. “What species was he?”  
Katya’s reply was so soft Beverly only just heard it. “Human.”  
“Human.” Beverly repeated, dread and panic gathering within her. “And is this human known to you?”  
“Yes.” Katya whispered then, deciding to end the pointless questions, blurted, “It was Captain Picard.”  
This time it was Beverly who instigated a lengthy silence, but broke it suddenly by snapping angrily, “I don’t believe you! Jean-Luc would never…”

Katya, angered by the blatant accusation of lying, replied far more harshly than she intended. “Well he did! He raped me again and again and again and would’ve kept on raping me if he hadn’t been hauled bodily off me.”  
“No…” Beverly moaned piteously. “Not Jean-Luc … please … not Jean-Luc…”  
Katya began to weep again, describing brokenly what had happened. “He was in the room, waiting for me. He had an enormous erection, and he was almost slavering. Once he was released…”  
Beverly snapped, “He was restrained?”  
“Yes!” The tall Havenite was holding him back by gripping the manacles that the captain had on his wrists behind his back. Once the manacles were taken off, he … he…”  
“He what?” Beverly shouted. “What did he do?”  
Anger emboldened Katya. She glared hotly at Beverly and spat, “He rushed over to me and raped me! He shoved his cock inside me so hard … It hurt, it hurt so much, I screamed and screamed but no sound came out and he raped me and raped me and every time he came, he bit me! Look! Look at what he did!”

Katya turned so that Beverly could see the multiple, deep bite marks at the base of the left side of Katya’s neck. “He wouldn’t stop!” the poor woman all but wailed. “After each time he came he’d simply start again. I lost count of the number of times he came…” She sobbed then said bitterly, “I suppose you could count the bite marks.”  
Beverly was struggling to regain some composure. What she’d been told was so unbelievable; Jean-Luc Picard, her Jean-Luc, would simply never act as Katya had described. Such behaviour was unknown to him, but to refute what she’d been told would be to accuse Katya of lying, and by doing that, somehow lessen what had obviously happened to her.  
“Katya,” she said cautiously, “I’m not saying you’re lying; I know you’ve endured a horrendous multiple rape, but…” she took a deep breath. “are you certain it was Jean-Luc? Not an imposter, perhaps?”  
Both women fell silent for a few moments before Katya calmed herself enough to say, “It was him, I’m sure of it, but…” she sighed deeply and swallowed to wet her dry throat. “I think he was drugged, in fact I’m sure of it.” she sighed. “I briefly saw his eyes … they were glazed.” She then snorted derisively. “I’m assuming his ability to fuck continuously despite experiencing multiple orgasms isn’t normal for him?”   
“No, it’s not.” Beverly said sadly. “Can you tell me anything else?”

“About the rapes specifically, or about the experience as a whole?”  
On hearing the strength in Katya’s voice, Beverly smiled to herself despite her anguish and turmoil. “Either. Both. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me.”  
Katya took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “I was injected with drugs. They robbed me of my voice, any control over my body and supposedly leave me emotionally sedated, but that didn’t actually happen. I felt terror and outrage, and there was certainly no lessening of the pain … the agony … I experienced.” She sighed and added sourly, “But then, they never said I wouldn’t feel the pain…”  
“What did they say?” Beverly asked quietly.  
“Pretty much just what I told you … except the tall Havenite said what I was about to experience would only last ten minutes. He lied.”  
When Beverly didn’t ask the obvious question, Katya shrugged. “Considering the rapes occurred practically as soon as I got to the room and I was brought back almost straight afterwards, and the room was relatively close by, I think you’d agree that what I endured was more than ten minutes of sexual torture.”  
“Yes.” Beverly agreed with gentle compassion. “More like half an hour.”

Another lengthy silence descended before Katya sighed and shook her head. “I can’t believe that only so very recently I was ogling your husband’s arse, and almost salivating at how his impressive cock filled his speedos. I even wondered what he’d be like in bed!” She laughed bitterly. “Not that I would’ve been able to compare.” Her tone became cold and flat. “I know now, though, don’t I?” She added bitterly, “I know what it’s like to be brutally fucked by none other than Captain Jean-Luc Picard, big cock, tight arse and all.”  
“Katya,” Beverly gently protested. “He’s not like that, not at all. Surely you understand that what he did was because of the drugs they gave him … or whatever had been done to him?” Beverly reached for Katya’s hand, saddened when the younger woman drew it back, out of reach.  
“I’ve known him for over thirty years, Katya. I’ve served with him, experienced things, both professional and private with him that would’ve shattered a lesser man. The man who raped you was not the real Jean-Luc Picard. The real Jean-Luc is gentle, Katya, he’s a caring, altruistic man … and wonderful man, husband, and father. Please tell me you know that. Know it, and accept it?”  
It took a long while before Beverly heard Katya sigh. “I do know that, Doctor Picard, and I accept what you say, but I doubt I’ll ever see him in my mind as anything other than a brutal, insatiable rapist, and forgive me, but if you’d experienced what I did, perhaps you’d feel the same.” Some minutes passed before Katya suddenly spoke. “Oh! I just remembered something.”  
Beverly, on hearing the shocked tone of Katya’s voice, wasted no time in replying. “What?” she asked cautiously. “What is it? Something important?”  
“I’m not sure…” Katya murmured; her mind unwilling to fully engage with the memories of what she’d endured. “Umm ... I think he’s been tattooed.”

Of all the things that had tumbled though Beverly’s mind when Katya had said she’d remembered something, being told her husband had been tattooed wasn’t one of them. A frown creased Beverly’s brow as she parroted “Tattooed?”  
Katya sighed, somewhat irritated that she was going to have to describe what she’d seen. “I only got a glimpse and even then, I was more concerned about his glazed eyes and rampant erection, but…” Katya sighed again. “he had some kind of design on his torso, around his navel too, I think and … Oh!” Katya fell silent, prompting Beverly to say, “Oh, what? What else do you remember?”  
Although Beverly didn’t see the blush colouring Katya’s face, she clearly heard the embarrassment in her voice. “His … penis. It had a thick black line right over the end … the, um… glans.”   
“His penis has been tattooed?” Beverly said incredulously. 

“Yes. As I said, I only glimpsed this, I didn’t want to see, and I couldn’t close my eyes, as much as I wanted to, but my head was hanging over the edge of the bed pretty soon after he began to … you know… and I wasn’t able to lift it, so I can only give you my impressions of what I saw.”  
Katya took a calming breath and gathered her thoughts. “He definitely had a design on his torso that included around his navel and along and over his penis. And there were colours, too, but I couldn’t say which ones, or exactly what parts of his tattoo had colour.”  
“Ok,” Beverly replied cautiously. “Well, I don’t know what that means, or how it fits in with what’s happening, but thank you for telling me, Katya, I do understand how difficult it must be for you to have to relive such unpleasant memories.”  
“It’s ok, Doctor Picard. It is horrible, but I do what to help.”  
Nothing further was said and eventually both women drifted off to restless and disturbed sleep.

Jean-Luc too had found sleep, but not until he’d endured the madness of hours of frustrated lust. He’d rubbed the head of his cock on the wood beneath him so much he’d caused a painful area of chafe, but the pain helped ease his lust. Finally acceding to the discomfort, he ceased thrusting and slowly calmed enough to first doze, then slip into a deeper sleep.   
Hours later he woke, still somewhat aroused, but nothing like he had been. He was confused and winced as he moved, several areas of his body complaining loudly.  
“What the hell,” he croaked in a deep, rough rumble. He tried to sit up, only to discover his shackled hands. As soon as he saw his reddened and swollen wrists, his memories came online. He gasped, closing his eyes as a sudden wave of strong nausea threatened to overwhelm him. His stomach heaved twice, but all he brought up was a small quantity of bile, which he swallowed.  
As more and more hideous images appeared in his mind, he began to shake his head and weep, saying brokenly, “No … dear god, please, no!”  
Just then the door opened and Twenth came in. “Ah!” he crowed cheerfully. “You’re awake. I was beginning to think you might sleep though the morning.”  
Jean-Luc looked up; his tear-stained face haggard. “What I did … was it real?” he asked huskily.  
Twenth raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “You’re referring to your mating with the human woman?” the instructor grinned. “Yes, of course you did it.” The being then winked lasciviously. “And very vigorously too, I might add. I never knew humans mated so … fiercely.”

His face then collapsed into a troubled frown. “I’m not convinced your partner was as involved in the act as you were though. She seemed to be … unwilling.” He then brightened, the swift changes of mood further confusing Jean-Luc.  
“Still, you filled her with your seed, which is what you were so very enthusiastic to do. In fact, I’ve rarely seen an initiate so eager to breed.” His expression suddenly became pensive. “Had it been a long time since you last mated? Is that why you took the woman so furiously? Oh…” he snapped his fingers. “She bled! Why was that? Is that normal? Or had she not mated before? She did show … overt discomfort when you penetrated her … especially as you did it so brutally.”  
Jean-Luc lowered his head and, as Twenth watched, his tears stained the floor, much as Katya’s had done. “You are wasting your energy, initiate. Kerron is guiding our actions and you will continue to do his bidding. Another female has been prepared for you.”  
Jean-Luc raised his head and stared steadily at his tormentor. “I refuse. I will not be a party to rape, not again.”  
That brought two vicious strokes of the ferule. Jean-Luc’s back arched inwardly as he endured the agony. Twenth watched on, his smile cold and predatory. “You have no say in this, initiate, nor, may I add, will you have any control, not once you receive more vitamin injections.” He laughed cruelly as he injected the struggling man, then stood back and watched avidly as the change began to sweep over his victim. Jean-Luc eyes became glassy and his cock stiffened. “Wonderful.” the being muttered. “This is too easy.” 

He left the room and made his way quickly through the complex, arriving at his associate’s quarters excited and ebullient. “Have you watched the vids?” he blurted as soon as the door closed.  
An amused smile creased Lannit’s face. “Oh, yes, more than once!” he chuckled obscenely. “We could sell those vids as standalone porn clips … or…” he snapped his long fingers. “we could supply the clips to his new owners … let them see how enthusiastic Picard is about fucking!”

“Who knows…?” guffawed Twenth, “His new owner may be a female with tastes that include human males?”  
“Oh, Twenth…” Lannit Yan laughed, holding his stomach. “You’re too much.” He then quickly sobered. “I’ve had further thoughts about maintaining a grip of Picard’s breeding potential, even after he’s sold.”  
To Twenth’s raised eyebrows, Lannit grinned and crowed triumphantly, “We milk him … we make sure he leaves us with a substantial quantity of his seed. That way we can use it to impregnate any females we choose.”  
“And how do we verify the authenticity of his seed?” Twenth asked, hesitant yet warming quickly to the idea.   
“Easy,” said Lannit. “Not only will we have Picard’s DNA to match it with conclusively, we’ll have the vids of him supplying it for us.”  
More cruel laughter ensued before Twenth clapped Lannit on the back. “By the gods, Lannit, you are a genius.” He chuckled some more then his eyes twinkled with delight. Did you hear what Picard and Hu call me?”  
Lannit chuckled and shook his head. “I did, Twenth, or should I call you Eman? Esteemed Eman?”  
Twenth shrugged and offered a sheepish grin. “Yes, well … it seemed appropriate at the time…”

“Perfect.” Lannit laughed. “You’ve got our money-making prisoners and our tame doctor calling you, perfect.” He shook his head. “That is elegantly hilarious.”  
“And so, do you, when we’re in the temple. The locals can’t know me by any other name.” Twenth chuckled his agreement, then sobered. “I have to go, Picard’s due for more vitamins and his wife is ready to be brought to him, but I want a chat with our tame doctor. These vids will be worth watching, Lannit, my friend. I’m going to reduce his drugs a little … just enough for him to have no control, but still be aware of what he’s doing … and to whom.”  
Lannit gasped and pressed a hand to his groin. “Oh, I do look forward to watching those. Will you watch them with me?”  
Twenth’s eyes drifted down to the strategically placed hand and smiled knowingly. “Yes, Lannit, I think we’d both enjoy that.”  
“Good.” Lannit smiled warmly. “I’ll see you later.”  
Twenth left then, his step light for such a tall being.

Hu had begun to sweat profusely. He knew displaying such obvious evidence of his nervousness and fear would put him in grave danger, but when he’d been told to meet Eman before he was to get the red haired human female, he couldn’t help but dread the outcome. Far too many scenarios raced through his mind, each one more dire than the last. By the time he heard Eman’s long stride echoing down the corridor, it was all Hu could do to control his bowels.  
The taller male arrived and stood too close to Hu, deliberately intimidating the smaller being by invading his personal space. “We have to talk.” The Eman said ominously.  
Hu swallowed and summoned what he hoped was a steady voice. “About what, esteemed Eman?”

A predatory smile spread across Twenth’s face, again making his skin pucker oddly. “About Picard’s potency, among other things.”  
Hu almost swooned with relief. “Oh.” was all he managed to say, but it was enough to placate Twenth.  
“Yes.” The tall male sighed. “You have explained how he would lose his potency if he had rapid successive expulsions, but what of the fluid? I’m assuming his seed is carried within the fluid?”  
Hu began nodding, eager to expound on Twenth’s assumption. “Indeed, yes!” he said with enthusiasm. “And that too is a finite resource. With each expulsion, the amount of fluid decreases until no more is available. At that time, a human male would still experience the physical sensation of ejaculation and the reproductive system would go through the process of expulsion, but nothing would be ejaculated.”  
He was still nodding as he continued. “Of course, under normal circumstances, that situation would be extremely rare. The external and internal reproductive organs of both human genders are extremely sensitive, so much so that prolonged sexual activity can cause significant pain, and should that occur, it would normally preclude any further sexual activity.”  
“And thus, running out of seed or fluid wouldn’t normally occur.” Twenth concluded.  
“Precisely.”

“All right,” Twenth shifted his weight, making Hu suspect his feet were sore. “Picard’s sexual organ. Am I right in thinking the size of his organ is above average for his species?”  
“Yes.” Hu nodded, not too sure where Twenth’s query would lead, but feeling compelled to offer whatever information he had on the subject. “There is quite an astonishing range of size for that particular organ. Even one considered exceedingly small while flaccid, could grow remarkably once erect. There isn’t any real way to know by examining a flaccid organ, but as a general rule, small when flaccid usually means below average when erect, just as large when flaccid usually translates to well above average when erect.” Hu then added, “And it’s not just length. Girth too can vary widely, from thin to very thick. I would say that in length and girth, Picard is well above average, but not in the grossly huge range. For those human males in that range, sexual activity can be problematic.” 

“Hmm.” Twenth grunted. “Yes, I imagine it would. So, tell me, Doctor Hu, the mating Picard recently took part in. I’ve come to believe the female he mated with had not undertaken mating before. Given his above average size and the manner in which the mating took place, do you think he has damaged her?”  
“I can’t imagine the experience was pleasant for her,” Hu muttered. “In fact, I’d say it was very painful. Her hymen would’ve been ruptured,” he said thoughtfully, then nodded. “yes, definitely very painful. Without being sexually aroused first, and without sufficient lubrication, nor with the consideration of a thoughtful and gentle lover, her mating would have resulted in tearing, extensive bruising and considerable areas of internal abrasions.”  
Twenth’s expression was cold. “And would any of that preclude conception?” he asked dispassionately.  
“Err, no. As long as the spermatozoa have an unobstructed path to the ripe egg, or eggs, then conception should take place.”  
“Eggs?” Twenth asked sharply. “More than one?”

“Well, yes.” Hu nodded. “I would think that with the heavy use of the fertility drugs, it’s more than likely both females would have more than one ripe egg available for fertilisation.”  
“Excellent.” Twenth said, but his tone showed nothing of his enthusiasm. Hu’s anxiety went up a notch. He was right to be worried. “So, back to Picard’s potency, Doctor. How long does it take a human male to replenish his seed and fluid? Specifically, how long until his potency is fully restored?”  
Hu frowned. “It does vary from male to male, but it can take up to seven days or more.” He replied cautiously.  
Twenth frowned. “Why so long?”  
Hu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Human spermatozoa are manufactured in the testes. It’s a process that begins at puberty and continues right through the lifespan of the male. The sperm are stored in the testes and not released until they mature, and then only when required for ejaculation. So, if a male completely depletes his available mature sperm quickly, then his testes will not release those sperm that are immature, while the testes go about creating more to make up for the shortfall.”  
“And the fluid?”  
“That is replenished much more rapidly as it’s the carrier system, not the reproductive element of the ejaculate, although,” Hu smiled. “that’s not to say it doesn’t have a part to play. It contains acids, sugars and proteins that nourish the sperm, without it the sperm wouldn’t survive.”  
“Hmm.” Twenth nodded, his expression still flat. “Interesting.” 

But then his eyes glittered dangerously, and Hu felt sick with fear. “Here it comes.” he thought with dread.  
“So, tell me, Doctor.” Twenth said with quiet menace. “When were you going to tell me that mating Picard with his wife today would be pointless?”  
Hu’s throat moved as he swallowed. He was appalled when his voice broke when he spoke. “I didn’t think it mattered.”  
The tall being’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t think it mattered?” he asked incredulously. “You do understand we are attempting a breeding program?”  
“Yes.” Hu replied timorously. “But I’d already explained that his wife has significant health issues that will make it highly unlikely she’ll conceive.”  
Twenth loomed over the smaller male and glowered. “Two things, Doctor. One: I told you it was your job to see that Picard’s wife was medically managed in such way as to make it possible for her to not only conceive, but successfully gestate an offspring. And two: with Picard’s potency so low, the chances of her conceiving have dropped from unlikely to nigh impossible.” He paused for that to sink in. “Now does that sound like a successful way to conduct a breeding program to you?”  
“No.” Hu whispered.

“No.” Twenth said coldly. “On that we agree, at least.” The Eman took a deep breath and made a show of calming himself. “You will go and administer another dose of fertility drug to Picard’s wife, then bring her to the breeding room.”   
Almost as an afterthought, Twenth frowned and said, “And if you have any pharmaceuticals that will accelerate Picard’s reproductive recovery, be sure to bring whatever you have with you. I cannot change the breeding schedule right now, but I would like to know there is some chance of success, even if it’s only a remote one.”  
Hu bowed, saying contritely, “At once, esteemed Eman.”  
Twenth watched the doctor go, his cold thoughts sealing his fate. “Disobedience and incompetence are bad enough, doctor, but your body odour is repulsive and unforgivable. I fear you are on borrowed time here.” Twenth turned on his heel, grimacing as his feet complained. Hu was right, they were sore. 

Jean-Luc stumbled as he was led to the breeding room. His cock was hard and leaking precome and the insidious lust was making him growl in frustration at the time it was taking to get to the room.  
When he finally entered the room, he snarled at seeing the bed unoccupied. He ignored the injection a somewhat tubby Havenite gave him, but when his tormentor bent to his ear and said salaciously, “I think you’ll like your new gift, initiate. Would you like me to have her brought in?”

Jean-Luc’s reply came out as a rough growl. “Yes!” His glazed eyes stared intently at the door. At a gesture from Twenth, Beverly was brought into the room. She seemed dazed, but she recognised her husband and managed to call out, “Jean-Luc!”  
It was as if someone had slapped him across his face. He gasped and took a step backwards, a strangled groan issuing from his slack mouth.  
“What is it, initiate?” Twenth asked with feigned concern. “Is there something wrong?” Jean-Luc whimpered and looked up into his instructor’s eyes. “Please, no … not her…”  
The tall being made a show of looking at Beverly, then back at Jean-Luc, his expression confused. “She is your wife, is she not?”  
Jean-Luc merely nodded, but that brought two vicious strikes from the ferule. He cried out in pain and shock, only to have Twenth say harshly, “You forget so quickly, initiate! Show me the respect I am due!”  
He had to choke back a sob, but Jean-Luc managed to say, “Yes, Eman, she is my wife.”  
The smile that emerged on the being’s face was cruel. “Then I don’t understand your reluctance. I take it you fuck your wife on a regular basis?”  
“Yes, Eman.” Jean-Luc all but whispered. “But…”  
“But?” Twenth repeated menacingly. “But, what?”

Jean-Luc looked at Beverly and wished he could rid himself of the desperate and growing need to bury his cock in her. “It’s not the same … please, Eman, please, I don’t want to…”  
Twenth made a point of staring intently at Jean-Luc’s straining, throbbing cock. “You’re lying, initiate. One look at your reproductive organ is enough to convince me that you are more than ready and willing to mate.” His tone changed to something almost seductive. “Here, I’ll remove your restraints.”

Once his hands were free, Jean-Luc took two steps towards his wife, but managed to stop himself. He shook his head, saying with quiet anguish, “No, Eman, I won’t do it.”  
He expected to hear the hideous whistling of the ferule as it cut through the air before slicing into the skin of his back. When that didn’t occur, he looked back at his tormentor.  
Eman’s expression was unreadable as he said softly to his assistants, “Position her on the bed and restrain her as I’ve instructed.”  
Two Havenite males ushered the now naked Beverly to the bed and, though she struggled weakly, they had no trouble in lying her on her back with her legs spread wide, her ankles shackled to the bed corners and her wrists similarly fastened above her head.  
Twenth was watching Jean-Luc intently and smiled coldly when he saw the human male’s nostrils flare. “Yes,” he murmured close to Jean-Luc’s ear. “you can smell her, can’t you? She’s ripe and ready for you, initiate. You want her, don’t you?”  
Jean-Luc’s head nodded even as his voice sounded his refusal. “No.” he said, but with fading resolve. Twenth almost chuckled as he said quietly, “I’ll help you, initiate. You just need a little more incentive.”  
Jean-Luc’s head turned as the hypodermic pierced the skin of his upper arm. He frowned as the drug quickly entered his system and began to erode what little willpower he had left. Tears welled in his eyes and overflowed to run down his haggard face as his feet began to take him the small distance to his beloved wife.   
“No.” he whispered almost inaudibly as he knelt between her legs. He didn’t pause as he took hold of his cock, nor did he hesitate to push it deeply into the helpless woman, but even as he began to thrust vigorously, he did still keep whispering that one word over and over. “No.” “No.” “No.”

Katya didn’t know what to expect when Beverly was returned to their cell. She had given it considerable thought, struggling with how to comfort the older woman. Rape was rape; it mattered not if the rapist was one’s own husband. Yet the fact that her captain was obviously drugged and therefore not in control of himself was a mitigating factor, wasn’t it? She mused, one part of her wanting to be dispassionate, but the other, her more powerful inner voice insisted that the man should’ve been able to prevent what he’d done to her … somehow. 

Then another thought intruded concerning her companion’s situation. What if she consented? The fact he had no control and would’ve raped her anyway makes any consent useless, doesn’t it? Katya sighed.  
Her head was beginning to hurt with all the jumbled thoughts inside. She was almost relieved when the door opened, and Beverly was escorted inside. Katya’s face fell and her stomach soured on seeing the blood and semen stains on Beverly’s inner thighs.   
She rose and helped her disabled superior officer sit, then with remarkable gentleness, took the older woman in her arms. Beverly was trembling and soon began to quietly weep. Katya held her for a long time.  
Eventually Beverly extricated herself from Katya’s embrace and used a few moments to wipe her face and gain some control. She even managed to summon a watery smile. “No need to tell you what happened?” she asked redundantly.  
“No.” Katya replied, anger tingeing her voice. Beverly heard it and reached out to take Katya’s hand. She allowed it, giving Beverly’s hand an encouraging squeeze.  
“It was awful. Jean-Luc resisted as best he could, but that bastard Havenite … the tall one … he gave Jean-Luc an injection, and whatever was in it stripped him of the ability to resist, although through it all he kept whispering, ‘No’, over and over.” Beverly wiped away another tear. “Somewhere inside him he was aware of what he was doing and was trying to refuse…”

“Or apologise.” Katya muttered, then said sourly, “He never said a word to me, just a lot of triumphant grunting.” She immediately regretted what she’d said and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Doctor Picard, that was uncalled for.”  
“No.” Beverly forgave the younger woman. “It’s all right, Katya, I understand.” Beverly sighed and took back her hand. “Jean-Luc was teased and taunted by having me brought to him, making sure we recognised each other, then I was … displayed on the bed for him, Katya. It was only when he refused to comply that he was injected with more of the drug. I think it was deliberate too. I think the tall bastard wanted Jean-Luc to know who he was about to repeatedly rape.”  
Katya gave Beverly a long, speculative look before asking, “You didn’t consent?” Beverly’s derisive snort made Katya frown. “What?” she asked curiously.  
“Consent was moot, Katya.” Beverly waved her good hand. “Not only was I in no fit state to make any protest or refuse permission, but Jean-Luc was always going to do it, it’s not like he was going to be given a choice. The sick bastard’s cruel, taunting games aside, for whatever reason they want us to breed, Jean-Luc is their male of choice.”  
“And we’re their receptacles of choice.” said Katya bitterly.  
Beverly shrugged. “That we know of.” she said quietly.

The remark made Katya softly gasp. “Gods, no!” she blurted. “They wouldn’t, would they?”  
“Why not?” Beverly shrugged. “Until we figure out why they want to breed with us I think we should assume they have some kind of agenda that may or may not include others. And here’s another thought. I said Jean-Luc was their male of choice, but that may only be relevant to us. It could be that they wish to maintain species-specific offspring. With their insane religious beliefs, anything’s possible, including the abhorrence of mixed species interbreeding.”   
She gave a snort and added, “And I bet that’s why they’ve chosen to do this breeding the old-fashioned way, rather than the much more reliable scientific way of egg harvesting and invitro fertilisation.”  
The younger woman grunted and said bitterly, “Medical science is probably against their damned religion.” Katya then shook her head, momentarily too shocked and disgusted to say anything more. 

Beverly filled the silence with the ongoing description of her ordeal. “What I endured was painful, terrifying, and heartbreaking, all at the same time. There was no allowance for the fact I wasn’t ready, there was no lubricant supplied, and with the way he … well, let’s just say I’ve got some internal damage. Nothing serious, nor as extensive as I know you have.” she laughed sardonically. “There are some downsides to having a sexual partner who’s well hung, but until now I can honestly say I’d never encountered them. I guess I’m lucky that, under normal circumstances, Jean-Luc has always been considerate. He’s never hurt me,” she sighed then and brushed away a tear. “before today.”  
Katya clearly heard the sorrow in Beverly’s voice and recalled her previous description of her experience as being painful, terrifying, and heartbreaking. She now understood what Beverly meant. It was more to describe her emotional anguish which, Katya correctly surmised, was worse than her physical pain. She wondered idly, should they all find a way to escape, would Beverly and the captain ever find a way to repair the emotional damage done to each other over this? She steadfastly refused to entertain any thought to the possibility that, at that very moment, she may be pregnant. It was just another aspect of her rapes that she didn’t want to consider.  
Both women were frightened when the door opened, and Katya protested when she realised Beverly was being taken away again. It was pointless and within mere moments she was once again alone.

If Jean-Luc thought his ordeal was over, he was sadly mistaken. Despite his inner struggle to refuse what he was compelled to do, he had to be forcibly dragged off Beverly’s body almost half an hour after he began his assault. Just as before, his cock remained iron hard and the insidious lust raged in him, unabated. He was manacled and taken to the scripture room, unmanacled and then told to put his briefs on, a pointless gesture as his turgid cock wouldn’t be contained.   
Then, bizarrely, Twenth gave him a lesson in scripture. It was a long lesson, going for in excess of three hours. Eventually the pain in Jean-Luc’s knees and feet began to overcome the lust and his cock slowly wilted. When he was finally told to stand, he struggled to do so.

It was the stinging bite of the ferule that drove him upright and then came more slicing cuts as he grappled with the questions about the scripture lesson that followed. The torture concluded when Twenth announced he was going to colour more of Jean-Luc’s tattoo.   
Where before Twenth had only spent twenty minutes or so, this time he worked for over an hour, and to Jean-Luc’s shame, when the instructor took Jean-Luc’s cock in his hand to ink around its base, it hardened, making Twenth chuckle lasciviously. “My, aren’t we the eager one, initiate?” His eyes gleamed as he gently squeezed the organ and chuckled again when it stiffened further. “Haven’t you had enough, yet? Or is it that you wish a different experience? Are you tired of females? Or humans in general?”  
Jean-Luc didn’t see the subtle gesture Twenth made that brought the assistants to his side. He murmured some commands and Jean-Luc’s hands were again manacled behind his back. He was then ushered to the wall and his manacles attached to a ring, bolted into the masonry. The assistants then left.  
Twenth moved his inking equipment to the new position and resumed the tattooing, and his grip on Jean-Luc’s still-stiff cock. When he lifted the organ and held it against Jean-Luc’s lower belly, he sighed. “You may want to brace yourself, initiate. I’ve been told this area is very sensitive.”

Before Jean-Luc could respond in any way, Twenth began to tattoo all around the underside of the cockhead. Each time the needles passed over the frenulum Jean-Luc cried out in pain. When the tormentor was satisfied with the design, he began to tattoo long, thick lines of colour down the length of the underside of the shaft, but when he suddenly began to tattoo inside and around the urethral opening, Jean-Luc began to sob.  
It was a combination of many things. He was sore from the too vigorous sex, the chafing and having been erect too long. All that, added to his emotional pain caused him to break down. Twenth looked up and smiled, seeing Jean-Luc’s eyes screwed shut and tears coursing down his face. He chose that moment to engulf Jean-Luc’s cock with his mouth.  
Jean-Luc’s cry became one of shock and horror. His eyes snapped open as he watched in disbelief as his cock and balls ... all of it ... disappeared inside his instructor’s gaping mouth. He tried to pull away, but Twenth easily overpowered him. Cruel hands gripped Jean-Luc’s hips as Twenth began to slide the cock in and out, managing to collect the balls each time as he pressed his face against Jean-Luc’s body.   
His tongue wrapped around the shaft and, with growing shame and revulsion, Jean-Luc knew if it didn’t cease soon, he would come.  
Twenth changed his grip, one arm encircling Jean-Luc’s hips, still preventing him from pulling away. Somewhere in Jean-Luc’s shocked mind he wondered what the male would do with his free hand. He soon found out. Twenth rudely shoved two thick fingers into Jean-Luc’s anus. 

The searing pain lanced through his body and he screamed in agony, but still his cock stayed hard. He began to beg his tormentor to stop, but with growing dread he knew his orgasm was gathering. It was mercifully quick, surging through him without warning. There was little matter to ejaculate, but his cock still pumped, delighting Twenth who sucked hard to extract the miniscule dregs of seminal fluid that remained in the shaft.  
Jean-Luc’s erection wilted, but not by much. That seemed to please Twenth inordinately. “You have done well, initiate. Sex is a holy act, one fully endorsed by Kerron himself.” He smiled with genuine warmth and cupped Jean-Luc’s face in his large hands. “Because you have shown you enjoy this kind of sexual activity, I will afford you the honour of receiving me later tonight. Your tattoo is almost complete. If you perform as I hope, I will finish it and you can take your place as an acolyte.”  
He then placed a tender kiss on Jean-Luc’s lips, and then undid his shackles. He led the stunned and broken man to his room but shattered any feelings of compassion by slicing Jean-Luc’s back with four strikes of the ferule.  
He bent over the trembling man, curled in a foetal position on the floor where he’d fallen. “I haven’t forgotten your defiance in the breeding room, initiate.” he said in a flat, menacing tone. “I don’t like to be disappointed.” He then added with cold menace, “You might like to keep that in mind later tonight.”

He rose and stood, staring down at the pitiful man with an odd expression on his face. He seemed to give himself a mental shake and left abruptly, slamming the door on his way out.  
He was keen to reach his destination, a very potent energy had built within him and he was in need of release. His business partner was waiting for him, with the latest vids, including those which would show what Twenth had just done to Jean-Luc. He eagerly anticipated what that would do for their coming liaison. 

Beverly had rarely ever had need to lie. She was a straight-talking person, her position as a doctor necessitated it and her personal integrity demanded it, yet the sometimes-terrible news she had to, thankfully rarely, give her patients was always clothed in compassion. 

There were, of course, the times when a strategic fib had to be told. Her long association with Jean-Luc proved to her that there were those times when the judicious use of a half-truth could ease the way between them, particularly if it involved something she knew he was to be protected from, but as she stood in front of doctor Hu, frightened and dreading what was to come, she decided there and then that if her husband ever asked what she’s endured, she would never tell him.  
Of course, her introspection very conveniently ignored the recent lies she’d told him. Not fibs, not half-truths, but blatant, out and out lies. Yes, they were told because she wished to protect him, but that didn’t alter the fact that she planned her subterfuge, premeditated it, and carried it out with barely a thought for the consequences.   
The damage those lies had wrought had not yet been fully resolved and would, no doubt, make any recovery from their current predicament that much harder to achieve. Those thoughts had not yet occurred to Beverly. She was doing her best to distance herself from what was happening to her. 

The guards had come for her and she was stood in front of some kind of large scanner; in fact, she’d been instructed to press the entire front of her torso hard against its cold glass-like surface. Hu stood to one side, a small device in his hands. His attention moved from Beverly, to a screen which Beverly couldn’t see, to the vaginal probe, the end of which protruded from her body by several centimetres.  
When she’d arrived, all Hu was able to do was whisper quickly and covertly, “I won’t hurt you. You’re here for me to treat your tumours and the imbalance.”  
That helped Beverly immensely. To know she wasn’t going to be medically tortured, or worse, sexually assaulted, gave her untold courage and she was grateful to Hu for that. However, as she stood with her legs apart, her traumatised vagina and badly bruised cervix hosting the very unwelcome probe, her previous uplifted mood faded into bitter resentment.  
She dare not ask Hu what he was doing or ask him to describe what he saw on his screen. The one time she’d murmured her single question she was sternly admonished by the guard who let her know, in no uncertain terms, what he’d do if she uttered one more word. 

She complied immediately fully cowed and frightened. It rankled her, it ate at her to acquiesce so meekly, but what alternative did she have? Her captors held her, her husband, their children, and her colleague. Any misstep by Beverly could have disastrous consequences for any and all of those people. Her dear ones.   
She shifted slightly, the ever-present pain and slowly worsening paralysis making it very difficult to obey her instructions. Hu was aware of this and was sympathetic; the trouble was he couldn’t show that sympathy. He had to maintain his facade, be the uncaring, cold medic who saw Beverly as nothing more important than a microbe on a microscope’s slide.   
To that end he barked, “Be still, will you?” He then had an idea, a way to impart information without tipping his hand to the guards. “How do you expect me to study the tumours in your uterus, right ovary, colon and left lobe of your liver and brain? If I can’t devise a way to shrink them, I’ll have to operate, and I don’t want to waste my valuable time or equally valuable pharmaceuticals on the likes of you!” He stepped away from his screen so Beverly could see him and sent her a faux glower.   
“It’s bad enough your first scans showed the tumours in your brain and neck! I suppose I should be grateful there are only those two. If your inferior body hadn’t developed your hormone imbalance, I’d have had success much earlier than the four days I think it’ll take to treat all of your tumours now.”

It was difficult, but Beverly managed to hide her joy. She stared intently into Hu’s eyes, sending him her gratitude. He replied by slowly blinking, letting her know her message was received.  
He was efficient and composed as he continued his scan. There was one aspect of her scan he wasn’t willing to share. He wondered morosely if he ever would.  
Beverly endured another fifteen minutes of the scanner, then a series of uncomfortable injections before she was taken back to her cell. 

The torrid sexual liaison Twenth had experienced with his colleague had done little to slake his thirst for more. Indeed, it had heightened his need, making him almost salivate in anticipation as he strode through the corridors on his way to Jean-Luc’s room. He ignored the pain in his feet. The disguise he and his partner were forced to endure in order to carry out their plans caused many physical discomforts, but the one that vexed him most was the way his feet reacted to being confined in the Havenite style shoes.

Twenth’s feet, like those of Lannit, were broad, with webbed and taloned toes. Their talons had been brutally shortened and their feet temporarily compressed to allow them to fit into the shoes, something that had to be done every morning. But by the day’s end, Twenth’s feet ached badly and walking on them whilst maintaining his carefully cultivated, confident stride caused significant pain. It went some way to explain his by-now predictable bad temper as evening settled but his cold brutality towards his victim told more about his true nature than his sour mood due to his troublesome feet would cause.  
He said nothing as he opened the door to Jean-Luc’s room, entered and shut the door before quickly undressing. Jean-Luc, who had been fitfully dozing on his side and facing the wall, half turned, squinting his eyes in the dim light. He had no opportunity to react. 

Twenth was quick to lie on the bed, pulling Jean-Luc’s back hard up against him. Twenth pushed his hips forward, forcing his erect cock between Jean-Luc’s thighs. The human felt his tormentor’s breath as he murmured into his ear, “I’ve enjoyed sex with many species, initiate, but never before have I had a human.” The being gripped Jean-Luc’s thigh and lifted it. “I’ve been looking forward to this, I hope you realise what an honour I am bestowing on you.”  
As the head of Twenth’s cock began to push against Jean-Luc’s anus, he began to struggle, while saying, “No, stop, Eman, I don’t want this. I don’t want you to do this!”  
Twenth pushed his free hand under the protesting man and said with quiet menace, “While it is more exciting if you move around a little, initiate, I don’t appreciate being refused.” He lowered his hand and gripped Jean-Luc’s testicles, squeezing cruelly. “Pain is a part of life, initiate, something I would’ve thought you’d become reconciled with. Now how much pain you experience is up to you entirely, it won’t affect me in the slightest, I will enjoy what I’m about to do regardless.”  
He pushed harder with his hips and the head of his cock entered Jean-Luc’s anus, stretching it painfully. The wretched man let out a yelp of agony and shock, but before he could assimilate what was happening, Twenth shoved powerfully, forcing his thick length inside, and tearing flesh and delicate tissue as he did.

The scream that was torn from Jean-Luc’s throat seemed to spur Twenth into a frenzy. He began to thrust deeply and vigorously, all the while squeezing Jean-Luc’s balls. Unable to cope with the overwhelming agony, the already weakened man lost consciousness. It was a kindness, as the brutal and violent rape went on for almost forty minutes. At its end Jean-Luc was left bleeding and torn and manacled to his bed. Twenth bent and placed a tender kiss on Jean-Luc’s sweat-covered pate before whispering, “I enjoyed that, Captain Picard. I’m sure the vids will be a popular item on the market.”  
He left without any more thought for his victim. He had prospective buyers to consider.  
Lannit had already produced a preview package of vids and it was the matter of mere moments to add the latest evidence of their atrocities. Having agreed on a select clientele, the vid packages were sent via subspace. The pair then indulged in a drinking session, heartily toasting their keen business sense. 

Twenth was quick to congratulate his partner in crime for his foresight in instigating their plans. Almost 3 years in the making, a huge amount had been achieved, mostly due to the gullibility of the Havenite population. Having a reputation as being a people who were accommodating and compliant towards visitors were fine attributes for a renowned holiday planet. But falling prey to the false religious fervour of Lannit, Twenth and the non-existent Kerron was an almost fatal flaw. Such was the instability caused in the planetary government between those who believed and those who didn’t, the system was beginning to fail, and civic unrest was starting to appear. It wouldn’t be long before more serious problems arose, perhaps to the extent of a civil war.   
Lannit and Twenth watched all this happening and rubbed their hands with glee. If their plans came to fruition as they hoped, they would soon be long gone from Haven and the mess they’d created. They had only had three previous victims, but they were low-level bureaucrats from an out-of-the-way planet who succumbed easily to simple blackmail. A tidy sum had been extorted from their families, but until Lannit saw the Picard family listed as imminent guests, their plans hadn’t been quite so intricate, grandiose, or criminal. 

With perhaps only eight more days left before their departure, Twenth stretched and yawned expansively as he gave his partner a bleary look. “I suppose we should use Picard to service the females again.”  
Lannit belched and scratched his groin. “Yes, I suppose.” he sighed and then grinned salaciously. “We might as well do all we can while we can. Who knows how we’ll be set up while we wait to hear from the prospective customers?”  
Twenth barked a cruel laugh and shook his head. “Pity Picard himself can’t get pregnant; I’d be happy to do that job myself.”  
Lannit gave his companion a shrewd look and licked his puckered lips. “What was he like?”  
Twenth’s eyes gleamed with feral hunger. “Tight and hot ... and surprisingly delicate inside.”  
“He bled?” Lannit asked with obscene eagerness.

The taller being shrugged. “He did, yes, but his blood was useful as a lubricant.” Twenth then smiled coldly, his nostrils flaring with his memories. “And the smell ... mixed with my scent ... very, very provocative.”  
Tossing back another gulp of alcohol, Lannit leered, “Sounds interesting. I might just have to try Picard ... see for myself.”  
Twenth was quickly on his feet, now free of their constraining shoes and splayed wide. “No!” he snarled, looming over the smaller male. “he’s mine, Lannit.”  
A knowing smile made Lannit’s face take on a cadaverous appearance. He waved his hand dismissively. “Sit down, Twenth, my friend, I was joking. I know how possessive you are about your toys.”  
It took a few moments for Twenth to regain his seat, but his former good humour was gone. “When do you think we’ll hear from our customers?” he asked, all business once again.  
The shrug Lannit gave irritated Twenth, but he stifled his emotions. Lannit was a friend of many years standing, but where Twenth was deliberately cruel and cold; Lannit was murderously ruthless, traits not confined to his victims.  
Twenth was always aware he had to tread carefully with Lannit, be always watching and alert to his sometimes sudden and deadly mood swings. There were times when Lannit grew remote, and at those times Twenth knew to leave him alone. He also knew that at the end of these periods, bodies would be found. As long as Lannit regained his equilibrium, Twenth didn’t care ... and as long as it was never his body found violated, sexually mutilated and rotting.

Will Riker was enjoying his stint as acting captain. The Enterprise wasn’t doing anything much, a relatively simple mapping mission, something most of the crew could do in their sleep, but the usual busy work required to keep the flagship up to Picard’s standards encouraged Will to go a bit further than the usual drills. Even his reports to Command carried far more detail than he would normally submit.   
He was revelling in his assumed position and he actually found himself wishing the Picards would extend their leave. That was until he received a call from an old and very concerned friend.  
“Juan!” Will exclaimed on seeing his friend. “What could possibly drag you away from the bar to call me?”

Commander Juan Jimenez tried to smile and summon a witty reply, but his mood was too serious. He eventually shook his head and fisted his hands on his desktop. “Will, I’ve just seen something I think you should see.”  
Will’s smile vanished and a deep frown developed. “Like what?” he asked warily, still not fully convinced his usually jovial and playful friend wasn’t setting him up for something.  
“This concerns Captain Picard and his family and it’s deadly serious.” Juan said with quiet intensity.  
“The captain’s not aboard, Juan.” Will said softly, his stomach beginning to sour.   
“I know.” Juan replied. “I’ve just seen some vids, Will, part of a preview package that comes with an offer to purchase the participants.”  
Now truly alarmed, Will snapped, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Juan shook his head. “I’m not going to say over subspace, I’m sending you what I’ve seen. Contact me immediately afterwards on the heavily encrypted channel I’m going to use and then I’ll give you all the intel I have.” He gave Will a meaningful look, then said quietly, “Jimenez out.”

Will’s monitor changed screens then displayed the high-level, encrypted status screen which Will was required to verify before the files downloaded. As Juan had informed him, Will saw it was a digital package of short vids.   
There were seven in all, the shortest eight minutes in duration, the longest twenty-two minutes. Will watched them all and when he finished, he felt physically ill. He only just made it to the toilet in his quarters. Having calmed his rebellious stomach after its explosive expulsion, and having washed his mouth, he returned to his desk and called Juan, using the requested security system. The wait was a short one.   
“What the hell did I just see, Juan? Who the hell made them? They’re fake, obviously.” Will tried to sound confident but fell well short of the mark. Juan gave Will a sympathetic look and sighed. “No such luck, Will. They’re genuine.”  
Will’s anger surged through him and he shot to his feet. “How the fuck did anybody get vids like these? What’s going on?”  
Waving his hands in a placatory manner, Juan sought to calm his friend. “I received the package from an acquaintance. I can’t give you any names; let’s just say this person’s a friend of the Federation and Starfleet. This person received the package because of some covert links with an old adversary of ours. Again, no names, but such is the political climate at the moment, it was felt it would be … helpful … if we, that is a select few in Starfleet, were made aware of what’s happening.”  
“And just what is that?” snarled Will, his patience wearing thin.

“Captain Picard and his family have been kidnapped and are being held and forced to breed in an attempt to make them a more lucrative sale item.”  
Shaking his head, Will made a cutting gesture with his hand. “No! That can’t be true. Captain Picard and his family are taking a leave of absence on Haven.”  
Juan sighed and rubbed his eyes. “As far as my friend knows, they’re still on Haven, but he doesn’t know where, or who has them.” he sighed again. “Apparently things have gone a bit screwy on Haven recently. Some religious nutbags have convinced a large proportion of the population to join them, and it’s causing serious civil unrest. Unless something’s done soon, the Federation Council may be forced to intervene to restore order. The planetary government doesn’t seem capable to do anything much in that way.”

Will shook his head in disbelief. “But those vids, Juan … they’re…”   
Juan nodded sadly. “I know, and Will, it isn’t just the nature of the vids in that they’re pornographic, but it’s certain they include instances of multiple rapes.”  
Will’s jaw actually dropped as he recalled seeing Katya and Beverly both protesting what his captain had done … and then there was the obvious and hideous rape of his captain by an unknown alien. Juan saw Will’s expression and said quietly, “All participants, except the alien, were definitely affected by something, Will, I doubt any of them had control over their actions.”  
Still shocked to his core, Will suddenly remembered something. “What about the Picard’s kids? James and Elly?”  
Juan shrugged. “Nothing concrete on that score but seeing as they’ve been advertised as well as the Picards and their nanny, I’m guessing they’re ok.”  
“There’s no vids or images of them?” Will asked weakly, dreading the reply.  
“No.” Juan said softly, sharing Will’s dread. 

Will slumped in his seat, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Juan,” he said quietly. “what’s the selling point? What kind of carrot are the kidnappers dangling?”  
Again, Juan shrugged, but shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, apart from Captain Picard being who he is, you know, the most famous Starfleet captain … the flagship’s captain, there are those who would like to take revenge on him for past deeds, and there are those who firmly believe that a man of his caibre would most certainly be able to pass on his sterling qualities in his genes.” He shrugged again. “Take your pick, Will. There are as many reasons for bad people to want him, his family and any offspring he produces as there are ticks on a targ.”  
“And the price?”

Juan’s smile was cold. “The kidnappers are being pretty coy about that. It’s obvious they want a bidding war and chances are they’ll get one. What price, you ask? Personally, I don’t think there’s that much latinum in existence, but however it goes, they’ll be obscenely wealthy at the end of the bidding.”  
“If they live to enjoy it.” Will remarked, darkly.  
“Yep, there’s that.” Juan agreed. “There’re going to be a lot of noses put out of joint over this. Some of the losers are going to want to soothe their damaged egos and prides.”  
Will glared at his friend. “That’s considering it goes ahead!”

“True.” Juan smiled warmly for the first time. Will suddenly understood the tacit order.  
He didn’t know from where or from whom it came, but it was as clear as a bell to him. “When do we leave?” he asked with quiet determination.  
“ASAP.” Juan replied. He then sobered. “That political climate I mentioned?”  
Will nodded silently.  
“It’s not just my friend’s friend. It’s us too. Tread very carefully, old friend, and play your cards very close to your chest. Need to know only. Got it?”  
Will nodded again then said softly, “Thanks, Juan, I owe you one.”  
The dark man grinned. “More like a thousand. See you, Will. Jimenez, out.”

Doctor Hu had been summoned very early the next morning, in fact it was just before dawn and he was still trying to wake up as he followed an assistant though the large complex. Unsure as to where he was going, or what he was being summoned for, he was nervous and fearful, although, he grudgingly admitted, that was helping him to get his mind online.  
When they finally arrived at the door and entered, he was appalled by what he saw. The assistant gestured towards Hu’s intended patient, but he couldn’t hide the uneasiness in his expression as he gave Hu his instructions. “You are to treat this initiate, taking him to the medical room if necessary, and I’ve been instructed to assist you with that, if required.” The young man swallowed, obviously distressed by the situation. “I’ve also been told you are required to give the initiate a treble dose of the fertility restorative. He will be breeding again tomorrow, once in the morning and again in the late afternoon.”

Ehanne Hu was still looking at the wretched human male curled on his side on his bed, facing the wall. Blood and other matter were smeared over his buttocks and the back of his thighs and the bare wood of his bed was stained with the same substances. Hu shook his head, disgusted and shocked that any individual should’ve been left, presumably overnight, in that state of physical damage, let alone hideous mess.  
“What happened to him?” Hu asked in barely a whisper. The assistant leaned over a little to speak softly in their native language to the shorter Havenite. “I understand that Eman wished to … sample … this initiate,” the younger male couldn’t hide a grimace of distaste. “sexually.”

“But…” Hu stammered, “but why didn’t he allow the victim…” Hu realised his error and his hand shot up to his mouth, his eyes wide with fear. The assistant gave him a long, hard look and then relented, his expression softening. “It’s all right, Doctor Hu, I happen to agree with you.” He inclined his head towards Jean-Luc. “There’s nothing that can justify what’s been done to the poor man, certainly nothing remotely religious in nature. The only thing that adequately describes what this man has suffered is a vicious sexual assault.”  
The man drew a deep breath, held it for some seconds, then let it out slowly. “And Doctor Hu? You and I aren’t the only ones who feel this way. There have been some things happening that we’re beginning to question, and not just here at the complex. Outside, word is spreading.”  
Hope began to grow in Hu for the first time in months. He reached up and gripped the younger man’s arm. “Will it come to anything? Will there be some kind of rebellion against this madness that’s overcome our people?”  
“I think so, yes.”   
“When?”

The taller male sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know for certain, but I seriously doubt it’ll be too far off. My guess would be weeks rather than months.”  
Hu struggled to contain his growing excitement. “This is wonderful news! How many here, here at the complex can we trust?”  
Hu’s assistant placed a warning hand on Hu’s shoulder. “It would be best if I didn’t say anything further, Doctor. I am already taking a terrible risk in saying what I have.”  
Hu let out a frustrated snort but understood his companion’s caution. A sudden question rose in him. “That man,” he gestured to Jean-Luc. “his children, a young boy and an infant girl, are here as well. Can you tell me anything about them? Do you know where they are? Have they been…?” Hu looked at Jean-Luc and shuddered. 

The young male gently squeezed the hand still on Hu’s shoulder. “I do know where they are and, as far as I know, they are unharmed. Although…”  
When the male said nothing further, Hu snapped, “Although? Although what?”  
“I believe the young male has been tattooed. He was receiving religious instruction, after all.” He then smirked and added, “The infant girl hasn’t though … been tattooed, I mean. Even though she’s too young anyway, the fact that females were forbidden to receive religious instruction or hold any position within the faith, other than that of mere worshipper, was one of the first things that began the dissent that’s spreading outside, and to be fair, a lot of Havenite males were unhappy with how the scriptures were telling them to treat females. It’s inevitable the religion was going to fail.”

Hu scowled. “Religious instruction? You mean indoctrination.” He then shook his head. “Are they here, at the complex?”  
The other being shrugged. “They were, but they may have been moved. I did hear that the young male was to be presented to his father during the ceremony to acknowledge his rise from initiate to acolyte.”  
“Can you find out where the children are? It’s very important…” Hu cast a sympathetic look at Jean-Luc. “Knowing where his children are and that they’re unharmed will help him a great deal, I think.” Hu then added, “And the females too. One is the children’s mother.”

“I will do what I can, Doctor, but I must be careful.”  
Hu nodded. “I understand. Now…” he sighed and shook his head. “I will give this poor man a potent analgesic, and then I will ask you to help me get him to the medical room. I warn you, though, it’s likely you will be … soiled … by the matter that covers his lower extremities in the process. Is that acceptable?”  
The younger male nodded, his expression one of sorrow and sympathy. “Of course, it’s not his fault he’s soiled as he is, he isn’t responsible.”  
“Thank you.” Hu said with heartfelt sincerity. Within moments Jean-Luc, still unconscious, received the painkilling injection and then was carried gently to the medical room where Hu worked on him for over an hour to repair the terrible physical damage Twenth had wrought. Hu wondered if the psychological damage would ever be successfully repaired.

It came as no surprise to Hu, considering the instructions he’d received about Jean-Luc, when Beverly and then Katya were brought to him separately for more fertility acceleration injections. He was able to impart some of his news of the brewing rebellion but what cheered Beverly immensely was the information he gave her about her children. Hu ended his session with her by telling her he hoped to learn where the children were soon, but he implored her to remain silent on the matter. He told her little about her husband, he saw no useful purpose in adding to her worries. The treatment for her tumours was progressing well and her hormone imbalance appeared to be finally responding to treatment. There was still one aspect of her health he didn’t share with her. He wondered if he ever would.

Will didn’t request permission to exceed warp 5 in the Enterprise’s headlong rush to get to Haven. Even at warp 8.5 she still had a journey of six days to get there, Will had scowled when Geordi had told him it was unwise to travel at warp 9.5 even though it would’ve shortened their journey. He advised that in case they needed to travel to another place in order to achieve their as yet undisclosed mission, it would be advisable to not overtax the engines.  
Will reluctantly agreed, but he chafed, impatient and angry as he sat in the command chair on the bridge, staring sullenly at the forward viewscreen. He preferred it open, seeing the passing, elongated and prismatic stars as evidence of their speed, despite the fact he wished for more.

Deanna Troi entered the bridge and took her seat to the right of her friend and lover. She had been feeling his turbulent emotions for some hours and she was a little surprised he hadn’t confided in her. She understood there were times when he was, due to orders, unable to share some things with her, but what she sensed from the big acting captain were feelings of deep anger, and they were very personal feelings.  
Whatever had happened to cause this potent personal angst worried the petite counsellor. She could only hope he would confide in her soon.  
Will finally noticed her presence and summoned an unconvincing smile. She sent him a warm smile and a sympathetic look, but he didn’t notice, having already redirected his attention back to the viewscreen. Deanna surreptitiously examined him, noting his tense posture and his clenched jaw. The quick glance he’d given her showed the anger in his eyes and Deanna began to worry further as to what was causing it. She then gasped softly as a thought occurred. She placed a trembling hand on Will’s forearm and asked quietly, “May I see you in the ready room, please, Captain?”

By using his temporary rank, Deanna let Will know it was important and he shouldn’t refuse.  
He gave her a long look then a curt nod, rising and striding to the ready room without waiting for Deanna. He was around the desk, prior to sitting when she stopped him in his tracks. “It’s the Picards, isn’t it.” She hadn’t made it a question and Will didn’t react as if it was.

“I can’t speak about our current mission, Deanna.” he said flatly.  
“I understand there are times you can’t share the details of your missions, Will, but can you at least tell me if the Picards are all right?”  
Will’s eyes narrowed as he searched for an answer that would placate his worried friend. “I haven’t had any contact with them, you know that.”  
“That doesn’t answer my question, Will.”

The big, burly man shrugged. “Well, that’s the way things are sometimes.” he said far more defensively than he intended. That only served to further alarm Deanna.   
“Can you at least tell me if it’s the captain that’s in trouble; are Beverly and the children all right?”  
“Deanna…” Will said with exasperation. “Let it go, just leave it alone.”

Tears welled in Deanna’s eyes. “I can’t, Will.” She took a steadying breath. “What I’m sensing from you … it’s so very potent, you’re so angry, the only thing I can come up with as an explanation for the amount of personal anger and outrage I sense from you is that it involves someone very dear to you and the only person, or people, I can think of that you care that deeply for, apart from me, are the Picards.”  
Will closed his eyes and bowed his head. He wanted to tell her, in fact he needed to. He took a large breath and lifted his head as he opened his eyes to let Deanna see his anguish. “I can’t give you details, and I have to ask you for strict confidence.”  
Deanna nodded silently; words unnecessary at this point. Will gave a nod and sat, gesturing for his best friend to do so too. Deanna frowned, frightened by the tacit acknowledgement that what she was about to hear should best be heard sitting down.  
“You’re right, Deanna,” Will said quietly. “It is the Picards, all of them.”

“Oh, my god.” Deanna gasped, her hand going to her throat. “Tell me what you can.”  
“They’ve been kidnapped.” Will then scrubbed his face with his hands. “As far as I know, James and Elly are ok, but the captain, Beverly and the ensign who went with them are not.”  
“Will…” was all Deanna could say as tears flowed down her cheeks.

“The kidnappers have drugged them and forced them to engage in sex in order to produce offspring of the captain.” Will said angrily, his blue eyes flashing.  
Deanna’s mouth fell open before she asked, “Why? Why would the kidnappers do that, Will?”  
“To increase their price.” he replied stonily.  
“Their price?” Deanna said, shaking her head in confusion.  
“They’re up for sale, Deanna. If Beverly and the ensign are pregnant by the captain, their value increases.” He sneered, his usually benign expression cold and angry. “It appears the captain’s reputation as a superlative officer makes any offspring he produces worthy of a high price. So, he has breeding potential, as well as the run-of-the-mill desirability as an object to wreak revenge upon by any and all who feel have been slighted in any way by him.”  
“No…” was all Deanna could say. 

“Yes.” Will replied coolly. “It seems Haven has been caught up in some kind of civil unrest caused by the introduction of a religious cult. Somehow, the captain, his family and the ensign have been swept up in this, but how is unknown.” He shook his head and fisted his hands on the desktop. “Also unknown are their whereabouts. They may still be on Haven, but perhaps not. We’re on our way to Haven now to try and unravel this … clusterfuck.”  
By the use of the expletive, Deanna knew Will’s anger was reaching towering proportions. She reached across the desk, took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes, sending subliminal messages of love and support. Will felt the calming presences and made a concerted effort to relax his too tense muscles. “Thank you, Deanna. I needed that.” he said quietly. Then he offered a rueful smile. “I should’ve told you all this as soon as I found out.”  
Deanna offered a non-committal shrug and gave a warm, forgiving smile. “That’s all right, Will.” her voice was lyrically soft, further calming Will. She then asked, “Who told you?”  
Will managed to grin. “Juan Jimenez.” 

That made Deanna chuckle. “You’re kidding? How did he find the time from all his carousing to contact you?”  
Will’s answering chuckle died prematurely. “I asked him much the same question. It was his inability to spar with me that told me just how serious his reason for contact was.”  
Deanna’s expression was sympathetic. “I can only imagine how distressing it was to hear what had happened.” she said soothingly.  
“You don’t know that half of it, Deanna.” Will remarked sadly. “There’re vids.”  
“Vids?” Deanna said warily. “I don’t understand.”

“Along with the kidnapper’s subspace advertisements for the captain, his children, Beverly, and the ensign, are a package of vids detailing the … breeding … that’s taken place. The purpose is to create a bidding war.” Will snorted in disgust. “It doesn’t matter why you want the captain, or his offspring, or Beverly or the ensign … if you win the bid, you get whatever you bid on. All, some or just the one.”  
“That’s…” Deanna searched for the right descriptive term but found she couldn’t. “Will, have there been any responses to the ads?”  
He shrugged. “I don’t know, Deanna, but there’s something you should be aware of.”  
“Go on.” she replied with a sinking heart.

“The breeding sessions?” Will grimaced. “They were undoubtedly undertaken without the consent of the participating parties. But all could be construed as rape.”  
Deanna gasped. “Oh, my god, no!” she exclaimed. “But you said there were drugs involved?”   
“That’s the assumption, but the vids clearly show Beverly and the ensign demonstrating their protests, their refusal to agree or give any kind of consent.” He then sighed deeply. “And there are vids of the captain being orally and anally raped by an unknown alien.”  
“My god, Will…”  
“I know.” he replied, his anger growing again. “For now, all we can do is get to Haven ASAP and begin our investigation.”

Deanna nodded her agreement. “And how will you proceed?” she asked, giving Will all her support.  
“Carefully, Deanna, very carefully.” Will replied, letting Deanna know how delicate the investigation methods would have to be. “I don’t want to panic the kidnappers.” he remarked with a worried frown. “That could push them to get rid of the … evidence.”  
“Yes.” Deanna agreed, her stomach souring. “We have to do everything we can to protect our people.”  
“Indeed, I do.” he’d emphasised the I in his sentence. He gave a measured look and added, “While I really do appreciate your help in a personal context, Deanna, I cannot accept any other form of help from you.” He sighed deeply. “This mission is on a need to know basis and, strictly speaking, you don’t need to know.” 

Deanna’s disappointed frown matched her tone. “I see.” She did her best to quash her feelings. “Very well, but you remember I’m here whenever you need to vent…” she summoned a wry smile. “or just talk.”  
Will rose from his seat and came around the desk, holding his arms wide in an invitation for a hug. Deanna didn’t hesitate, rising to her feet and allowing herself to be engulfed in her lover’s embrace. They stood for some time, giving and receiving comfort until Will eventually broke the connection and took a step back. Holding her hands, he looked deeply into Deanna’s eyes, saying softly, “Thank you, Deanna. I love you.”  
Her smile was a bit watery, but she managed to reply, “I love you too, Will, and you’re welcome.”  
She left him in the ready room and exited the bridge. She had a lot of thinking to do. Her dear friends were going to require her expertise; she could only hope she got the opportunity to give it.

Jean-Luc had regained consciousness in the medical room. He rose from oblivion growling in pain, his face contorting into a grimace. A warm hand settled on his shoulder and a soft, breathy voice sounded in his ear. “Please lay still, Captain Picard. I have limited resources with which to treat you, though I’m doing my best to do so with as little discomfort for you as I can.”  
At the use of his rank, Jean-Luc’s body stiffened, his mind sharpening to try and understand what was happening. It wasn’t until a particularly sharp pain lanced through his body that he abruptly remembered what had befallen him. He then realised why the pain he was experiencing was centred in and around his anus. 

His voice was little but a broken croak when he said, “I was raped.”  
Doctor Hu removed his hand from Jean-Luc’s shoulder and shifted it to gently pat his patient’s hip. It was an odd gesture to Jean-Luc, but a common one for a Havenite, though rarely used to comfort a victim of such a heinous crime. Rape rarely occurred on Haven.

“Yes.” Hu agreed quietly as he continued to treat Jean-Luc’s injuries. “You’ve sustained some nasty personal injuries, Captain, but I am confident I can adequately treat you…” he sighed and blinked away his tears. “At least I can restore you well enough for you to experience normal bodily functions without too much discomfort. The rest of your injuries will have to heal naturally, I’m afraid, as my instructions were to only treat you to the point where you can function sufficiently.” He finished, omitting just what was his patient was required to function sufficiently for.

Jean-Luc only half heard Hu’s words. His mind was focusing on his memories as they flooded in. “Eman.” he croaked. “That sadistic bastard, Eman! He raped me!”  
Seeing that his patient was becoming distressed, Hu didn’t hesitate in administering a mild sedative. It was very effective, and Jean-Luc quickly calmed. Hu patted his patient’s hip again and glanced at the assistant, receiving a surreptitious nod. “I have news, Captain.” Before Jean-Luc could summon a reply, Hu went on. “I have learned that your children are unharmed. I hope to discover soon where they are being kept.”  
Although he felt sluggish, the news heightened his mental acuity. “You don’t know where they are?” he asked, the desperation clear in his voice, even though his words were slightly slurred.   
“No.” Hu replied apologetically. “I believe they were here, at the complex, but I think they’ve been moved to somewhere else, recently.”  
Jean-Luc digested that then concentrated on what Hu had imparted first. “But they’re unharmed?”

“As far as I know, yes.” Hu rested his hand on Jean-Luc’s shoulder, gently encouraging him to roll onto his back. The captain did so, then tried to quash his embarrassment as Hu lifted each of his legs in turn and placed his feet on the bed, then eased his bent knees wide apart. Jean-Luc quickly decided the best way to deal with this humiliating position was to ignore it. He swallowed and asked, “How recent is your information?”  
Hu, making more progress now that his conscious patient was in a better position for him to treat the injuries, spoke in an almost conversational way as he worked.  
“My information is fairly up to date, but my informant was cautious in telling me too much.” Hu looked up from between Jean-Luc’s legs and said sympathetically, “I’m afraid this next bit will be … uncomfortable, Captain. I am sorry.”  
Before Jean-Luc could formulate a reply, or ready himself, searing pain shot from his anus and into the pit of his stomach. He lurched to one side, retching pitifully. Hu quickly gestured for his assistant and together they eased Jean-Luc onto his back once again, but when the tall, young Havenite gripped Jean-Luc’s knees, spreading them and holding tight, the man knew he was in for more agony.

It was eight terribly long minutes until Hu gently straightened Jean-Luc’s legs and wiped the sweat and tears from his patient’s face. “I’m so sorry, Captain. If I could’ve done that any other way I would have, but I have been denied the pharmaceuticals and instruments I would usually use that would’ve made this kind of treatment all but painless.”  
“Just tell me…” Jean-Luc said, his voice roughened by his cries. “Just tell me it’s over.”

“It is.” Hu agreed, once again patting his patient’s hip. “Unless you experience more trauma of a similar nature, I won’t have to do that to you again.”  
“Thank god.” Jean-Luc sighed. He then cracked open his eyes and gave Hu a long look. “What did you do to me?” he asked, somewhat warily. Hu offered a sardonic smile.   
“Do you really want to know?” He replied quietly. Jean-Luc gave that some thought and decided no, he didn’t.   
He sent Hu a slow shake of his head and said, “No, I don’t think I do, as long as you don’t do it again.”

Hu offered his hand and helped Jean-Luc sit up. The human winced as he settled his weight on his backside, and nodded his understanding as Hu supplied, “Residual pain, Captain, it’ll will ease over time as you heal.” He kept chatting as he prepared three hypodermics. “I would like you to refrain from voiding solid waste for as long as is reasonable if you can. If you can’t put it off, I must warn you it will hurt.” he then amended, “Significantly.”  
Jean-Luc nodded again and watched as Hu injected his left bicep three times. “What are those for.” He asked curiously. Hu, wanting his patient to remain calm, waved the question away. “Nothing of importance.” he said offhandedly. He then grinned. “I have more news for you, Captain.”

Despite him feeling the effects of the sedative he’d been given previously, Jean-Luc immediately gripped Hu’s arm. “Tell me!” he said urgently.  
“I’ve been treating your wife for several tumours and a hormone imbalance.” Hu said excitedly. “The treatments are finally having some effect.”  
“How is she?” Jean-Luc asked tears filling his eyes.

Yet again patting the man’s hip, Hu smiled warmly. “She’s doing well, Captain. The imbalance seems to be rectifying itself and her tumours are shrinking. I fully expect her spreading paralysis to recede soon, as well.”  
Alarm showed in Jean-Luc’s eyes. “Spreading paralysis?” he whispered, dread and fear making his artificial heart accelerate.  
“It’s all right.” Hu said placatingly. “The brain tumours were rapidly growing and were causing a paralysis on her left side. The loss of sensation was increasing, but, as I said, with the shrinking of the tumours in her brain, as the tissue restores itself, the paralysis should recede then disappear altogether.”  
“Should?” Jean-Luc asked carefully.  
Hu shrugged. “There’s no reason why it shouldn’t.”

Jean-Luc wanted to ask more, but his memories and the sedative were slowly eroding his stamina. He recalled what he’d done to his beloved wife ... and to Katya, and he was beginning to fall into despair.  
Hu saw what was happening and correctly guessed the cause. The gentle Havenite took Jean-Luc’s hands and bent slightly to see under his lowered brow. “You weren’t responsible, Captain.” he said quietly. “You had absolutely no control over your actions. The one at fault is Eman.”

Jean-Luc lifted his head and Hu gasped at seeing the cold intent in his eyes. “If I get the chance, I’m going to kill him for what he’s done to us.”  
The life-long pacifist nodded and replied, “You would be within your rights, Captain.” he then thought morosely to himself, “And more so after you’re compelled to rape again.”  
With the help of his assistant, Hu guided Jean-Luc back to his room. The exhausted man was encouraged to lie down on his side and was almost asleep when Hu administered the first of the sexual stimulants. The doctor’s face contorted into an angry grimace as he completed the task, muttering in dark recrimination, “If I was a braver person, a better person I’d have refused to do this.”  
He straightened and gave his sleeping patient a sorrowful look. “I’m so sorry, Captain Picard,” he whispered softly. “I hope you and your family can one day find forgiveness for me for what I’ve done...” he closed his eyes and added, as two tears slipped free. “All of it.”

Lannit Yan’s patience was wearing thin. Now that their plans were finally bearing fruit, he was eager to get away from Haven, a planet, and people he’d come to hate. His face twisted into a cruel sneer, the action puckering and contorting the synthetic prostheses he wore as part of his disguise. He hated that too. He knew Twenth suffered as he did, their bodies itching and sweating, their feet aching in the confines of their shoes and their genitalia painfully constrained to lessen any tell-tale contours.   
Although they both possessed a penis-like organ, they also had an orifice similar to a vagina. Their species had the remarkable ability to choose whether they wished to be the gestator or the impregnator. Either way, indulging in sex was intensely pleasurable; something considered almost a pastime on their home planet.

Their species were a largely benign one, not known for aggression or the penchant for criminal behaviour, something that had set Lannit Yan and Twenth apart from their early years. They were very different from their fellow beings, experimenting in crime with an ever-growing hunger and that was something that ultimately brought them together.   
They’d first met in a youth correctional centre, a place that was, due to its very low population, filled with the very worst young criminals. It was a last stop place, the courts deeming any inmate who remained a recidivist after serving time there, was irredeemable. Twenth was irresistibly drawn to Lannit, his easy confidence and powerful charisma tantalising the slightly older male. Just as it was on the outside between any consenting pair, sex between inmates was considered normal and expected, but Twenth wasn’t prepared for the intensity of having a sexual experience with Lannit.

It took many, many years before Twenth was able to have sex with another being. It was perhaps why he so often chose alien species. That way Lannit’s place in his heart and mind would never be challenged. It also went a long way to explain why Twenth was so possessive about his other sexual partners.  
It had taken him a long time to be able to even contemplate another sexual partner, but he knew without a doubt that should he so desire it, Lannit could take them away from him in mere moments. And they would most likely end up violated, mutilated and dead, despite any protests from Twenth.

Lannit sat back and scratched ineffectively and his prosthesis-covered midriff. He glowered at his trimmed fingernails, imagining himself ripping the synthetic material from his body with his usually sharp, slightly curved talons. Then he would scratch! His eyes closed in dreamy contemplation, but his reverie was broken as Twenth strode into the room.  
“Picard’s ready.” he announced with enthusiasm. Lannit looked up and his expression morphed into one of anticipation as his sour mood lifted.   
“Excellent!” he said, his eyes gleaming as he rose from his chair. “Has his female been prepared?”  
Twenth nodded, his appetite for the intended event keen. “Oh yes, his wife is as ripe as Hu can make her.”   
Lannit nodded thoughtfully. “And the level of their awareness?”

That question brought a cold chuckle from Twenth. “As suggested, they’ll be more aware this time, able to talk ... at least the females will.” His face clouded in consternation. “It has to be a very fine balance, Lannit. Even a little too much or not enough of the drugs will ruin everything.” He ran a hand over his face, then snarled angrily as his hand failed to achieve the required contact, the prostheses creating an annoying and uncomfortable barrier.   
He shoved his irritation aside and continued. “We want the females to protest, to try and reach him to attempt to make him stop, but Picard needs to be controlled only to the point where he can be physiologically manipulated. We still want him to be so desperate to fuck that he only just manages to initially hold back.”

Lannit’s grin was predatory. “Then it should prove very interesting.” he remarked, then said with cold menace, “I take it Hu has been told of the importance of him getting the participants in the optimum state?”   
“Oh yes.” Twenth nodded, his eyes darkening. “Yes, our tame doctor has been made well aware of how displeased I’d be should he fail to do as he’s been told.”  
“Good.” Lannit smiled almost unctuously. “After today we won’t be needing the services of our Havenite doctor.” He then became speculative. “Do you think he realises ... do you think he might have any inkling of what’s in store for him?”  
Twenth shrugged and gave a soft snort. “Who cares?” he spat. “It’s not as if he’s worth anything. Besides,” Twenth sneered. “That pudgy little Havenite has been getting on my nerves. It’d be good to leave this mud ball planet knowing he can’t offer anything by way of testimony. That’d be difficult to do if he’s dead.”

Lannit’s guffaw made Twenth grin. “Come, old friend, we have a mating to watch and enjoy.”  
“Indeed, we do,” Lannit nodded as he walked past Twenth. “And,” he said over his shoulder, “If our pet humans behave as we hope they will, the vids will be wonderful, certainly something for us to keep for ourselves as a memento of our little venture.”  
With his eyes riveted on Lannit’s tight, pert backside, Twenth nodded his agreement. “Yet another great idea, Lannit. You never cease to amaze me.”  
Although it had been said in a light tone, Twenth was absolutely serious. His awe and admiration for his partner was boundless, as was his fear and caution. Lannit grinned, unseen by Twenth, but he replied in a surprisingly genuine sounding tone. “I know, Twenth, my loyal companion. I hope I never disappoint you.” It was a pity his grin was so heartlessly cold.  
Twenth smiled wistfully, but in the deep recesses of his mind he thought, “I could survive disappointment, Lannit. Just don’t kill me.”

Beverly knew what was going to happen as the guards took her from her cell. She’d managed to squeeze Katya’s hands and offer a brave smile as she said, “I’ll be back soon.” Katya nodded as she brushed away some tears. She knew that if Beverly was being taken for what they suspected, then her turn would follow. Katya sat and sobbed into her hands.  
The by now familiar injections caused virtually no reaction from Beverly, though she quickly realised she didn’t feel as stupefied as she’d been the last time she’d been brought to this room. She looked at the bed with disgust knowing its purpose as well as what caused the stains.

She was led to the bed and told to lie on her back, but this time her legs were lifted until her knees were bent, then her ankles were shackled to the bed. Then a cord was tied to her knees and her legs splayed wide, exposing her completely. Her hands were manacled above her head. She was frightened and embarrassed, but as she could do nothing to stop what was happening, she concentrated on the door she knew her husband would emerge through.  
She didn’t have long to wait. Twenth entered first, his expression unreadable, but his eyes cold. Jean-Luc came in next, his eyes glassy and staring, his gait uneven and his cock rigidly erect. Lannit was the last to enter and Beverly sneered, allowing her eyes to show her anger and disgust.

Twenth wasted no time as he bent to Jean-Luc’s ear and murmured, “There she is, initiate, open, ready, and waiting for you.”   
Jean-Luc took an involuntary step, then hesitated, a frown marring his face. Beverly, watching as best she could, took the opportunity to call softly, “Jean-Luc? Jean-Luc, my love? Can you hear me?”  
He blinked and he seemed to hear his wife. No sound emerged, but his mouth said her name.  
Beverly correctly guessed what he’d done and managed to summon a smile, watery as it was. “You don’t have to do this, Jean-Luc, I know you don’t want to.”  
His head gave a jerky nod, but he said nothing. 

“Then refuse, Jean-Luc, just don’t do it. You don’t want to do it, do you?”  
He shook his head in jerks and tears welled in his eyes. Beverly was about to say more when Twenth bent and muttered to Jean-Luc too quietly for Beverly to hear, “Initiate, if you refuse to do your duty, to carry out your sacred devotional to Kerron, I will have your offspring ... your children, brought into this room, and I will take my pleasure with them.”  
Jean-Luc let out a cry of anguish. Twenth added, “And I guarantee you I’ll take my time with them, you’ll have plenty of time to listen to their screams of agony and terror ... before they die, wondering why their father didn’t lift a finger to help them.”  
Jean-Luc’s head turned slowly to stare at the reprehensible being beside him, His mouth was slack, and he made no sound, but tears streamed down his face. Twenth said softly, but firmly, “Now, you will perform as ordered, initiate, no more defiance.”  
Jean-Luc’s head turned again, and he stared at Beverly. His feet began to move as he approached the bed, making Beverly say loudly, “No, Jean-Luc! You must stop! I don’t want this; I don’t want you to do this!”  
He got onto the bed and Beverly saw the anguish in his eyes. She tried one last time, beseeching softly, “Don’t rape me again, Jean-Luc, please don’t.”  
He hesitated only for a second before gripping his cock and shoving it into her. Beverly’s back arched and she let out a cry of pain as he began to thrust vigorously. It was over in ten minutes. He’d ejaculated three times and had to be hauled off his wife, although he offered no resistance. He was immediately led from the room; his tears had not stopped flowing.  
Beverly was taken back to her cell and took several minutes to regain herself before she accepted comfort from Katya. Knowing what awaited her companion made Beverly offer as much solace as Katya gave her. When they’d finally calmed, silence settled between them, not broken until the guards came for Katya six hours later.

She wasn’t sedated, but she was restrained exactly as Beverly had been. Her captors felt it’d be more amusing to hear her protest and struggle, guessing that her refusals would carry less weight for Jean-Luc than his wife’s had.   
They were only partially correct. Although Twenth had found he had to repeat the threat of violent and ultimately deadly sexual assault against his children, Jean-Luc had shown considerable resolve in initially refusing to rape Katya. However, that momentary defiance dissolved at the threat and he had advanced on the struggling woman and fucked her blindly until he was wrenched from her.  
He didn’t react to her screeched pleas, her threats, or her insults to his character, and he was untroubled by her strenuous efforts to struggle free even as he fucked her. One thing remained constant, however. His tears began as the threat to his children was repeated and didn’t end when he taken back to his room. Twenth had then announced he was to attend a ceremony that evening to mark his ascension from initiate to acolyte. Twenth left Jean-Luc, manacled and curled up in a foetal position on his bed, his tears still flowing and his cock still stiff.

Katya had been awake for some time. She guessed it was night, she had no way of verifying her assumption, but somehow it felt right. She was uncomfortable and experiencing pain. Her recent assault had reawakened the pain of her intimate injuries, not that the pain had ever fully receded. She sighed deeply and grimaced as her mind sorted through a jumble of memories and thoughts.  
“Will I ever have a sexual partner I can trust?” she mused silently. “Will I ever allow anyone to get that close to me?” She sighed again and angrily brushed away her tears. This evidence of her trauma irritated her as she had little control over it. Her emotions were raw, and it seemed to her that it was some kind of weakness to fall prey to her own feelings.   
She’d noticed that Beverly was more controlled, she appeared to be doing better at coping with their situation. “I wonder,” Katya ruminated. “Is that an age thing, or more to do with her Starfleet training and experience?” She sighed again and shifted slightly, wondering if she’d ever have a soft bed to lie on again. Beverly, sleeping lightly and woken by Katya’s soft sounds said quietly, “Are you all right?”  
Katya answered with a snort. Beverly sat up and began her by now habitual massaging of her limbs. The paralysis was receding, and the massages helped in that regard. She allowed a few moments of silence before saying, “It might help to talk about it.”  
Katya took a deep breath, held it for several long seconds, and then let it out slowly. She found she did want to talk but wanted to have some semblance of control. She eventually reached a calm state, although she knew she’d ultimately lose it. “There’s just so much stuff in my head now.” She began, her exasperation and sadness clear. “As well as the damned images that scroll through like some kind of sick slide show, now I have all this emotional clutter and it’s driving me fucking nuts!” The last two words were shouted, and Katya’s hands went to her mouth to stifle the sob that wanted to escape. She again took a few deep breaths before saying quietly, “Sorry, sir.”  
Beverly was momentarily confused by Katya’s formality, but then realised it was her way of helping herself to regain control. The doctor let it pass. “I know you’ve heard me say it before, Katya, but it will get better. You won’t always feel like this.”  
“Yeah, I know.” Katya sighed. “But I keep having these really stupid thoughts, like … how will I ever be able to trust a potential sexual partner? How will I ever allow anyone to get that close to me? And even if I did, how the hell will I be able to enjoy sex with my memories faithfully replaying what my first times were like?”

“With therapy you’ll be taught how to do what’s necessary to overcome all that.” Beverly replied carefully. “I won’t lie, though. It’ll take time, quite a long time, and you’ll have to work damned hard, but if you’re determined, you’ll succeed.”  
There was a brittle silence before Beverly added, “I’ll be undergoing therapy too, as will Jean-Luc. We’ve all been violated by this, Katya, each in our own ways.”  
Beverly was surprised by the anger and bitterness in Katya’s voice when she replied, “Yeah, well at least you can make comparisons. Sex before as opposed to being raped. Your husband before, as opposed to his role as your rapist. Me?” she laughed sarcastically. “I have only my rapes to go by.”

Anger skittered just under the surface and Beverly had to choose her words carefully. “While I understand what you’ve just said, and your reasons for saying it, I must remind you that rape is rape, Katya. It matters to you that you have no prior sexual experience, but your rapes were no more or less devastating for you as they were for me.” She took a deep breath. “And the fact that our rapist was my dear and beloved friend and husband makes it all the worst.”  
Another fragile silence descended before Beverly said quietly, “And in a way, he was raped too. He had no choice, Katya, you saw him. He was drugged, and I’m certain overdosed with sexual stimulants. He had as much choice it what occurred as we did.”  
“He hesitated.” Katya agreed grudgingly. “I thought for one wildly happy moment he was going to refuse, but then the tall bastard whispered something to him, and he just came over and raped me. Again.”  
“Same thing happened with me.” Beverly said thoughtfully. “He recognised me, I spoke to him and he reacted, but then the Havenite said something and all his resistance vanished.”  
Katya shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. “What do you think was said?”

Beverly shrugged, enjoying the fact she could do it again with both shoulders. “I don’t know, but it must’ve been something very bad, probably a dire threat, one Jean-Luc knew he couldn’t risk.”  
“I suppose.” Katya allowed, reluctantly. She then gave more. “He may have thought he was protecting us, you know, a case of the better of two evils.”  
“Exactly.” Beverly agreed firmly. “The sad truth is, though, he was always going to assault us. Like us, he had no other option.”  
Katya snorted then said hotly, “Bastards!”  
“Indeed.” Beverly commiserated. “And I doubt they’re finished with whatever they have in mind.”  
The silence that followed remained unbroken for several hours.

Much to his embarrassment and consternation, Jean-Luc was still erect as he was led from his room. He was fairly confident he wasn’t going to be made to rape again, his level of sexual desire wasn’t that high, but as he was naked and aroused, he worried what was in store for him.

He was soon met by Eman who escorted him into a long, austere hall. There was seating for a hundred or so, but only ten males were seated at the front. There was a low stage, barely 10 cenimetres high and a lectern, which seemed to have been moved to one side, as Jean-Luc could see the marks from where it usually stood, centre stage front.  
The walls were light cream in colour and, other than four depictions of the tattoo that now adorned his body, there were no other decorations. There was a door at the side of the stage mostly hidden by a thick white curtain. The roof was without a ceiling and rose to a curved peak over the stage, exposing beams and roofing material. The floor was bare native wood.   
Jean-Luc was ushered onto the stage and Eman stood beside him. He spoke to the waiting males. 

“Behold!” his voice boomed. “This initiate has risen to that of acolyte. He has worked diligently and accepted the word of Kerron. His journey to a state of grace is now much shorter. We will pray for him as I finish his bodily icon.”  
The males rose as one, then sank to their knees, heads bowed. Murmuring rose in a deep rumble as Twenth turned to Jean-Luc and said quietly, “You will remain still and silent while I will go and get my inker. If you please me, I will present you with a very precious gift.”  
Knowing that a threat could be just as easily given, Jean-Luc nodded and said respectfully, “Yes, Eman.”

Twenth smiled indulgently. He left the stage and went through the rear door to an office. Inside Lannit dandled James on his knee. The little boy was naked and had a similar design on his body as his father had, but where Jean-Luc’s was tattooed into his skin, James’s was painted on, though that was almost impossible to tell. He gazed unfixed at a religious item in his hands. He’d obviously been drugged.  
Twenth’s demeanour changed the moment he shut the door. “Have you looked outside?” he hissed. “There are only ten devotees!”  
“So? Lannit shrugged. “We’ve known the Havenites were losing their appetite for Kerron. Why are you so surprised?”

Twenth struggled to contain his panic. “Because only two days ago I presided over a devotion that was attended by eighty-seven!” he calmed himself and continued, “They’re leaving in droves, Lannit. We have to go, before they return in numbers and angry.”  
Lannit offered a lazy smile and sent his partner a cheeky look. “And so, we will, my skittish old friend.” He waved away Twenth’s protests. “I’ve already made the necessary arrangements to have our shuttle prepared for launch and I’ve sent our prospective customers an update to inform them that we may be going to have an inspection of goods viewing soon, by invitation only, of course.”

Twenth’s mouth gaped and then he smiled, his panic forgotten. He couldn’t help but admire Lannit, his audacity was breathtaking. But then a thought intruded, and he asked. “Are we going to bring the ship closer?”  
Lannit shook his head. “No, that would be unwise.” When he saw that Twenth was going to ask why, he elaborated. “We need to leave as little trail to follow as possible and to that end, our shuttle’s meson trail will attenuate faster than our ship’s could, so providing we take a circuitous route, by the time we reach that hollow asteroid where our ship is hidden, our trail should be all but gone.”  
“That is fucking brilliant!” Twenth said, his eyes bright. “So why are we going ahead with this charade?” He waved his hand at James.  
Lannit smiled coldly. “Leverage.” He then explained. “If we don’t show this brat and the infant to their parents, eventually they’ll come to believe we don’t have them. They’ll presume they’re dead, and if that happens, they, the parents, won’t care what happens to them.”  
Twenth nodded thoughtfully. “They might fight, try to escape?”  
“Yes.”

Twenth shook his head in wonder, words momentarily failing him. Lannit took that opportunity to hurry his friend along. “The sooner you do this, the sooner we can leave.”  
“Yes!” Twenth barked, quickly gathering his inking equipment. He was out the door in mere seconds. He shut off his overt enthusiasm and went to Jean-Luc, still patiently waiting, as ordered. Twenth offered a benign smile and turned Jean-Luc so he could kneel before the human. The alien male looked up at his victim and murmured quietly, “This will be uncomfortable.” He couldn’t completely hide the lingering hunger and cruel anticipation that lurked in his dark eyes. “You will make no sound, nor will you move.” he said with quiet and unmistakable menace. “Do you understand?”

Jean-Luc’s eyebrows lowered as his heart accelerated. He nodded and replied quietly, “Yes, Eman.” And then tried to prepare himself for what was to come. Twenth took hold of Jean-Luc’s still erect cock and pulled the foreskin back so far it made his cock bow downwards a little. Jean-Luc barred his teeth, but managed to emit no sound, or make any move.  
The hot stinging around his frenulum hurt, but he hoped that was the worst of it. He soon found his hopes were in vain. As Twenth began to ink under and around the glans of Jean-Luc’s cock, he spoke in an almost conversational way. “As I understand it,” he said, his concentration held mostly by what he was doing, “This part of your reproductive organ, the foreskin, serves many purposes. Is that so?”  
He glanced up at his victim but didn’t pause in the inking. Jean-Luc, sweating freely and with his jaw clenched, remembered his instructions, and nodded silently.  
“Hmm.” On receiving that acknowledgement, Twenth nodded too. “And am I right in saying that the foreskin is important in protecting this area,” He deliberately pushed the tattooing gun harder against the frenulum. “As well as guarding its great sensitivity?”  
Breath hissed through Jean-Luc’s teeth as his eyes filled with tears. He managed to nod again.

“Strange.” Twenth remarked as he tilted his head to one side to better see what he was doing, despite the way he held Jean-Luc’s cock up, almost pressed into his lower belly. “I would’ve thought an area so sensitive, I mean this…” he waved the hand holding the inker at Jean-Luc’s genitals, then resumed his tattooing, “should be far better protected than it is. It seems a terrible mistake to have these organs outside your body and at the juncture of your legs.”   
He made some tight swirling circles with the inker and the pain was so intense that Jean-Luc couldn’t help but moan softly, his body involuntarily twitching to one side.   
Twenth reacted immediately, reaching up to grip Jean-Luc’s testicles and squeezing them hard. The tormentor said nothing, merely pausing his inking. Jean-Luc got the message loud and clear and regained control. Twenth waited a little longer, thoroughly enjoying the pain he was inflicting before he relented and released the balls. The ache that settled low in Jean-Luc’s stomach made him feel very nauseated, but he swallowed and breathed deeply, gaining a modicum of relief.  
“As I was saying,” Twenth took up his previous observations, “You might as well have a sign that says, ‘Kick Here To Incapacitate Me.’” He chuckled and added thoughtfully, “Very bad design.”

Not much else was said as Twenth completed his artwork by adding Kerron’s name to the double ring on Jean-Luc’s belly. Jean-Luc remained stoic for the twenty long minutes it took and didn’t bother to try and inspect the result. It had caused too much agony and his entire genitalia were now awash with hot, throbbing pain. He barely noticed when Twenth turned back to the still praying congregation. “Behold!” Twenth intoned forcefully. “The acolyte emerges.”  
The ten members rose on stiff legs and raised a lusty call of praise. Twenth, enjoying his role, swept his arm wide in a grand gesture.

“The acolyte will now receive his precious gift.” Lannit, who had been waiting for this cue, walked from the side of the stage and into the brighter light of the hall. Twenth had to tell Jean-Luc to turn to see what his gift was. He did so slowly, still suffering from the hideous pain in his genitals. When he saw what Lannit carried in his arms he gasped and let out a cry of joy. He’d taken two steps when Twenth’s large hands clamped down tightly on his shoulders.  
“No, acolyte. Your gift must come to you.” 

Confused and panicked, Jean-Luc swiveled his head and pleaded, “Please, please, let me hold him.”  
Twenth shook his head, and then inclined it towards Lannit Yan. The older being had placed James on his feet and turned him so he could see his father. On seeing what he thought was a large tattoo on his son’s torso, Jean-Luc gasped, saying softly, “No … please, no…”  
Lannit gave James a gentle push and the dazed boy took a few stumbling steps forward. He looked up and blinked, then stuck his thumb into his mouth. Jean-Luc, uncaring of the consequences, dropped to one knee, held out his arms and said softly, “James? James, its papa. Come to me, James, come to papa.”

The boy heard his father’s voice, but the man on one knee only three metres away didn’t look like his papa. This man was thinner, his features haggard and he had colours and lines all over the front of his body, including his willie, which was semi-stiff. “No,” James thought, very dazed and a little frightened. “You’re not my papa.”  
Jean-Luc guessed what was happening. He could see the glassiness of James’s eyes and noted his unsteadiness on his feet. He modulated his voice and crooned, “Come to papa, James. I want to hug you like I do when you get in bed with maman and me. I might tickle your tummy too.”

The smile that emerged on James’s face was in direct response to his father’s voice. Its tone and timbre, so unique and soothing. The little boy’s feet moved of their own accord and carried him into his father’s arms.  
Jean-Luc enfolded his son’s little body in his trembling embrace and held his head gently against his chest. He bent his head and placed a tender kiss on James’ head while trying extremely hard to not cry. James sighed, his jaw moving rhythmically as he sucked his thumb.  
“I love you, James. Je t’aime, mon doux petit fils.”

Twenth frowned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. On seeing a look from Lannit, Twenth turned back to the waiting Havenites. “The ceremony has concluded, brothers. Go back to your rooms and give thorough contemplation to your part in the new acolyte’s accession.”  
The members filed out and, once they were alone, Twenth grabbed Jean-Luc’s arm and all but dragged him to his feet. Jean-Luc managed to keep James in his arms, but staggered a little as Twenth shoved him towards the office.  
With the door firmly shut, the three adults filled the small room. Without warning, Twenth suddenly gripped Jean-Luc’s jaw fiercely, twisting his head so that the human was facing him. James, sensing anger around him, cringed in his father’s arms.  
“Those words you spoke.” Twenth said with cold anger. “What were they? What did you say? Were you passing on some kind of code?”  
Lannit came to stand beside his partner. “I’d advise you to be truthful, Picard. Twenth can’t abide being lied to.”

Jean-Luc’s eyes widened a little. Lannit Yan had just addressed him by name and referred to Eman by another name, his real name. With his jaw pounding in pain and his little son cringing in his arms, Jean-Luc knew he had to tell the truth, but as there was nothing to lie about, he felt remarkably calm.  
“It is a language called French; it is my native tongue.” he said, his voice somewhat strained by Twenth’s continued grip on his jaw.  
“What did you say?” Twenth said, unconvinced.   
“I told my son I love him in both standard and French, and I referred to him as my sweet little son.” Somehow Jean-Luc managed to smile. That brought a snide sneer and a retaliatory hard slap from Twenth, one that Jean-Luc expected and rode, steadying himself so as not to further distress James.

However, he couldn’t stifle a cry of shock and pain as Lannit whipped him four times with the ferule. James began to sob and that assisted Jean-Luc in regaining control. He shifted his focus from his agony to comforting his son. Ignoring the fresh streams of blood that now ran down his back, he hugged James to him and began to rock his body gently, crooning softly.  
Twenth sneered coldly, gesturing to Lannit to give him the ferule. Lannit frowned, almost denying the impatient request, but then shrugged and handed it over, but he held up one hand and made six quick jerks, his signal to Twenth to strike no more than that number.

Twenth’s anger was obvious, and he obeyed, but his anger had grown to fury and the lashes he delivered cut deeply into the flesh of Jean-Luc’s back, buttocks, and thighs. By the time the torture ended, Jean-Luc was on his knees, bowed forward and hugging James while he wept in agony. Yet somehow, he hadn’t cried out.   
Twenth hauled the suffering man to his feet and shoved him out the door. With his attention so focused on James, Jean-Luc didn’t even realise it when they left the complex. 

Once Twenth had helped Lannit secure Jean-Luc and James in their shuttle, he went back into the complex. He was on his way to Beverly’s and Katya’s cell, when he rounded a corner in the corridor and ran straight into Ehanne Hu. The impact barely moved Twenth, but poor Hu was knocked backwards and sideways, ricocheting twice off the walls before managing to regain his balance. With his hand fluttering at his chest, Hu spluttered, “Oh, my, esteemed Eman, you must forgive me!”  
Twenth’s eyes grew flinty, a cruel smile appearing. “Forgiveness is a gift, Doctor, one I am pleased to bestow.” His words were innocent enough, but his expression was predatory. “Tell me, dear Doctor, what causes such haste? You were hurrying, were you not?”

Hu was indeed hurrying. Trust had finally been given to him and he’d been tasked with delivering an especially important piece of information to a clandestine group within the complex, something that was urgently required. That he should encounter Twenth at this particular point was unfortunate indeed.   
“Oh,” he stammered, trying to think quickly. “I um … I have some medical notes I must input before I forget.” He summoned a weak smile and waved his hands. “You know how it is, if you don’t do things immediately, you tend to forget to do them altogether.”  
“Hmm.” Twenth replied noncommittally. “Not a good trait for a doctor, though, surely?” he observed with a trace of menace.  
“Oh!” Hu tried for a chuckle and failed miserably. Despite his words there was insouciance in Twenth that was somehow more frightening than his usual cold menace. Hu abandoned his attempts at humour and tried to extricate himself from the situation. “Well,” he said with a smile. “I really must be going.”

The large hand that settled on his shoulder actually made Hu expel some flatulence. Twenth grimaced and shook his head. “That was very disrespectful, Doctor.”  
Hu’s lower lip began to tremble. He knew he was in mortal danger. Twenth bent low and said quietly, “You haven’t updated me on the human females.”  
Tears began to flow. Hu could do nothing but shake his head. Whether it was by way of reply or a gesture of defiance Twenth didn’t know, nor did he care. “Have we achieved a conception?” the tall being asked.  
This time Hu nodded. He was desperately trying by buy some time, but he knew he was doomed.  
“Really?” Twenth said, obviously excited. “The younger female, I take it?”  
Hu shook his head, making Twenth glower. “The older one? The one you stated would probably not conceive?”

Hu’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. That changed when Twenth pinched Hu’s nose and twisted it violently, grinning delightedly as the bones crunched when they broke. Hu squealed in pain and lifted his hands, but Twenth simply batted them away. “Speak, Hu. Answer my question. Which female has conceived?”  
“Both.” Hu sobbed loudly. “They’ve both conceived.”  
Twenth’s thin eyebrows rose, distorting his prosthetics. He didn’t care though, taking Hu’s smock in his fist and shaking him. “And the conceptions …. are they viable?”  
Hu managed to shrug. “Too early to tell.”   
“Do they know?” Twenth’s eyes narrowed. “Have you told them?”  
“No, not yet.” Hu tried to wipe his eyes, but Twenth’s warning glare stopped him and made Twenth scowl.  
“Very well, my dear Hu, one last question.” He grinned with anticipation. “The older female, Picard’s wife. Is she recovering from her illnesses?”  
“Yes.”  
Twenth snapped his fingers and tried to look apologetic. “Sorry, Hu, there’s one more question. “Will she require ongoing treatment?”  
Hu should’ve said yes, he should’ve tried to convince Twenth that he was the one who should treat her. It was he who was familiar with her illness, it was he who had brought her out of danger, but, sadly, Hu was far too terrified to think of any of that. He looked up pleadingly and shook his head. “No.” he whispered and in doing so, sealed his own fate.  
Later Twenth would speculate idly whether Hu felt the knife as it pierced the top of his skull. With Twenth’s considerable strength behind the blow, the knife’s blade plunged quickly through the middle of Hu’s head, exiting through the underside of his lower jaw. Twenth withdrew the knife, the wet, sucking sound loud in the otherwise silent corridor and watched dispassionately as Hu’s flaccid body crumpled to the floor. He bent over and raised his arm to strike again, but there was no need. Ehanne Hu was dead. Twenth sneered then strode away, already dismissing the corpse from his mind. Time was short and he had much to do.

Due to the lack of injections that usually preceded being taken to Jean-Luc to be raped, and the fact they’d been removed together, Beverly was fairly confident that whatever the reason was for removing them from the cell, that wasn’t it.  
That probably meant a visit to Doctor Hu, Beverly mused. There was one other aspect that she felt deserved consideration. It was the one they’d discovered was called Eman who had come for them, not the usual assortment of assistants. So, when they entered an unfamiliar part of the complex, Beverly senses heightened. She tried to catch Katya’s attention, but since the last trip to the breeding room, and their subsequent talk, the younger woman had become increasingly withdrawn.  
When they were led outside, Beverly halted and lifted her head, closing her eyes to the bright sunshine. She wasn’t prepared for the hard shove to her back that sent her sprawling on the ground.  
“I gave you no instruction to stop.” Twenth growled. Beverly climbed slowly to her feet and sneered an insincere apology. The tall alien answered her sneer with a cold and very unsettling smile.  
“Would you like me to demonstrate what disobedience and disrespect will earn?” he asked rhetorically. He was going to do it no matter what Beverly said. She knew that and chose to stay silent. Twenth shrugged and took two steps, bringing him close to both women. Beverly braced herself, but it was Katya he struck. He punched her in the face with considerable force. She fell to the ground, a cry of shock and pain wrenched from her mouth. 

Beverly helped her companion to her feet and tried to stem the flow of blood that poured freely from the broken nose and badly split lips.  
Twenth gestured brusquely, indicating he wanted them to continue walking. When Beverly hesitated, he raised his fist. It was enough. Gently ushering Katya, Beverly turned them in the required direction and began to walk. Twenth then muttered quietly, “I take it you understand the importance of obedience and respect now?”  
“Yes.” Beverly muttered, but was careful to keep her tone bland.  
“Good.” Twenth said, a trace of amusement evident. “Then I don’t have to tell you that any indiscretions of yours will bring punishment to your fellow captive … and the opposite applies, of course.”  
“Yes.” Beverly replied. “I … we … understand.” Beverly had one of her arms around Katya and she gave a surreptitious squeeze of that arm to try and give the suffering woman some solace, and apology. It took some moments, but Katya responded with a slight nod, but Beverly couldn’t help but feel it was insincere. Understandable, of course, but unhelpful given their current situation.

They walked for 45 mins until they reached a modest aircraft port, one obviously for local traffic only. The sole hangar’s doors were wide open, and a gleaming, large and modern shuttle sat, powered up, on the tarmac. Alarm skittered through Beverly. She expected to see a domestic flitter, not a craft that was capable of space flight. Were they about to be taken off world? Without her children? Without her husband? She turned to Twenth, her mouth opening to protest, but he had a wicked looking knife in his hand, and he pointed it at Katya. “That ruined nose of hers.” he remarked with mild interest. “She might be better off without it.”  
The threat was clear. Say one word and he’d mutilate Katya’s face. Beverly closed her mouth and bowed her head. Twenth shoved them both roughly, making their steps halting as they approached the shuttle. The aft hatch opened, and Beverly gasped at seeing her naked husband and both of their children inside. It wasn’t until she and Katya were both aboard that she realised Jean-Luc and James were manacled and tethered with a sort length of metal cable, sitting on their backsides, their backs against the wall. James seemed sound asleep, leaning against his father. Elly was in a basket, also asleep. 

Having manacled both women, Twenth was about to put Katya next to Jean-Luc. He’d noticed her obvious reluctance to be anywhere near him and he thought it’d be amusing to see how this dynamic would develop, but Lannit, who was watching from the forward door, stymied the idea. He placed a companionable hand on Twenth’s shoulder and shook his head. “No, Twenth, old friend.” he offered a rueful smile. “I agree it would be interesting and somewhat amusing, but no, put his wife beside him and their offspring.”  
It had been said so gently that Twenth couldn’t find it in himself to take umbrage. Instead what he felt was the oh-so-familiar admiration for his friend’s perspicacity.  
“How did you know what I was thinking?” he asked incredulously. Lannit smiled, his violet eyes twinkling.

“I know you.” was all he said. Twenth shrugged and fastened Beverly’s tether to the same anchor point that held Jean-Luc’s and James’s. Katya was tethered near Elly’s basket. Both women sat the same as Jean-Luc and James, on their backsides with their backs against the wall with tethers of similar length. The adults’ hands were manacled behind their backs, but James had only one wrist shackled to his tether.  
“Besides,” Lannit added, and this was his real motive, “The inspection of goods will be far more convincing and desirable if our buyers can see the family together.”  
Twenth’s head tilted back and he guffawed, taking several moments before his amusement passed. “Lannit,” he said, wiping his eyes. “you are fucking unbelievable.”  
“I know.” Lannit replied with obvious amusement. He then adopted a cooler persona. “Now prepare for takeoff. The small staff manning this airport are all dead, so there’s no flight plan to lodge, we should be able to achieve clear space without any interference from the locals.”  
“Right.” Twenth replied, all business now. 

There was a tense silence then, as the craft rose from the tarmac, it altered its acclimation, then accelerated rapidly in a graceful arc as it climbed through the atmosphere and into space. Two craft in orbit sent enquiries as to identification and flight plan, but the aliens had simply accelerated again and quickly jumped to warp.  
It was over in minutes. Lannit rose from his cockpit seat and clapped Twenth on his broad shoulder. “We’ll drop out of warp soon, and then we’ll begin to meander.” he grinned. “But in the meantime, I’m going to rid myself of this ridiculous disguise.”  
Twenth smiled up at his companion and nodded. “Understood,” he then sighed. “and I’ll do the same!”  
“Of course.” Lannit said quietly. “But not before we drop out of warp.”

Twenth stifled his irritation. Lannit’s not-so-subtle reminder of who was in charge annoyed Twenth, but not to the point that he’d ever complain, he enjoyed living too much. It was more that Lannit often chose times when Twenth was happy, when he was feeling satisfaction. Being reminded of his place destroyed those feelings. At those times, like now, he deeply resented Lannit, however there was nothing he could do about it, and, in truth, it was his choice to stay with him.  
As was his habit, he shoved those thoughts aside and summoned a smile. “I look forward to it.” he said with genuine warmth. Lannit nodded, his expression unreadable, before he left the cockpit and moved to the small private bedroom. He took the opportunity to sleep, managing to doze for half an hour. When he emerged, he was almost unrecognisable. Almost. His eyes gave him away. Few beings’ eyes held such cold, deadly menace.  
After giving Twenth the go ahead to drop out of warp, he made his way aft and stood in silent contemplation as he watched the captives. Beverly had warned Jean-Luc of the consequences of protesting, so the three adults simply gazed up at him while Beverly managed to distract James with soft murmurings.

Having finished his silent musings, Lannit went and got a chair. He placed it out of reach of his captives and seated himself. Jean-Luc carefully studied the being, noting how vastly different his real appearance was. Lean and compact, he stood 1.8 metres tall, much like Jean-Luc himself. His skin had a slight bluish tinge and seemed to shift as he moved in a way that suggested it may have reptile-like qualities. Not scaled, exactly, but similar enough to give that impression. His head was bare, but Jean-Luc felt it was shaved, as he could see the follicles where hair should be. His nose was flat, the nostrils slightly upturned. The mouth was thin-lipped and later, when he spoke, Jean-Luc saw an array of ordinary looking teeth.   
The hands had four fingers and an opposable thumb-like digit, but there was another, perhaps vestigial digit just above the wrist. Jean-Luc wondered if this being’s ancestors might once have been arboreal.  
Lannit’s face possessed high, prominent cheekbones and somewhat sunken eyes, with heavy brows, seeming to put his eyes in perpetual shadow. Of his feet Jean-Luc could see nothing as he wore broad, woven shoes that looked soft and comfortable. Lannit wore clothing, nothing exotic or garish, but serviceable garments consisting of tan, loose-fitting trousers, and a slightly more snug top, reminiscent of a t shirt, pale green in colour.  
Lannit and Jean-Luc spent some time studying each other before the alien offered a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Have you worked it out yet?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice. Knowing that the question was largely rhetorical, Jean-Luc shrugged. The drugs in his system were finally losing their grip and his erection had subsided. Feeling more like himself than he had in what he felt was a long time; Jean-Luc tilted his head and replied, “Not all of it.”  
“Ah.” Lannit nodded sympathetically. “That’s understandable, I suppose. The victims are rarely cognisant of their captor’s plans.”  
“You acknowledge we’re victims?” Jean-Luc said quietly. “Your victims.” he added, placing the blame squarely on Lannit’s shoulders.  
“Of course.” Lannit shrugged, giving Jean-Luc a look that clearly said, ‘are you stupid?’  
He then sighed and crossed his legs before settling his hands in his lap, managing to look rather elegant in the process.

“Your being here...” he made sure his gaze took in all his captives. “is the culmination of planning that spans almost three terran years, although I do admit you weren’t our original target, but good fortune falls where it must, and in this case, favoured us.” He smiled indulgently, causing Beverly to struggle to suppress a shudder of revulsion.  
“When we became aware that you, Captain, and your family were coming to holiday on Haven, well, we were delighted. What had been a well thought out, somewhat lucrative little venture, suddenly had the potential to become so much more, and with only a little alteration to our already established methods.”

He leaned back and momentarily closed his eyes. “Could you believe, could anyone have believed how gullible the Havenites turned out to be? What we thought would take perhaps four or even five terran years, took only one.” He sighed again, a smile lingering. “We introduced our entirely made up religion, and it took off! It moved into the population so rapidly it almost outstripped our ability to accommodate it.”  
Suddenly Twenth appeared, carrying his own chair and a ferule. In appearance he was much like Yan, but he had a luxurious covering of thick, silky, glossy brown hair, though it was cut fairly short. He was tall though, well over two metres. Their clothing was similar and so were their shoes.

“Ah, Twenth, my friend.” He gave Twenth a frankly appreciative look. “Back to normal, I’m very happy see.” Twenth grinned, lowering his gaze under Lannit’s compliment. Lannit gestured to the captives. “I was just explaining what’s actually going on.”  
Twenth’s expression changed and it wasn’t pleasant. Menacing and predatory eyes roamed over the manacled and tethered captives. “Good. They should know what they’re in for.” He lifted the ferule and tapped in into the palm of his other hand. “As long as you behave, show proper respect and obedience,” he grinned with cruel anticipation. “I won’t feel it necessary to discipline you.” he hesitated then added, “And that includes the boy.”  
Jean-Luc felt Beverly’s outrage and quickly sought to forestall it. “We understand completely,” he said earnestly, then turned to look at Beverly and Katya. “Don’t we?”  
Both women nodded, but Beverly sent a venomous glare at Twenth. His grin faded and he caressed the ferule in his hands in an overtly sexual way. Beverly dropped her gaze immediately, humiliated when she heard Twenth chuckle lasciviously.  
“Later, perhaps?” he said, deliberately baiting both Beverly and Jean-Luc. Fortunately, they didn’t rise to it and after a few moments, Lannit began to speak again.  
“So, our suddenly more lucrative venture.” his gaze intensified and he stared at the captives. “Instead of attempting to blackmail you, with false evidence, of course, as we’d done to other guests on Haven, we’ve decided to sell you.” He licked his lips, barely able to contain his excitement. “To the highest bidder.” he added.

Alarm showed on Jean-Luc’s and Beverly’s faces. “You can’t.” Beverly said in a broken whisper.   
“Oh, I assure you, we can.” Lannit said, enjoying Beverly’s distress. “In fact, we have quite a list of prospective buyers.”  
Jean-Luc struggled to take it all in. “But our children...”  
Twenth tilted his head and grinned. “They’re for sale too.”  
“No!” Beverly spat. “I won’t let you!”

Twenth rose and stretched, saying to Lannit, “It’s so good to have my body free of those fucking prosthetics.” He flexed his considerable muscles. “It allows me to access all of my strength.”  
Lannit nodded, picking at some tiny particles of lint on his trousers. “Indeed.” he agreed, allowing his eyes to wander over Twenth’s body. “I have always found your great strength ... your raw power, intoxicating.” He sighed, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you demonstrate that for me now?”  
“I’d be happy to.” he replied quietly as he moved to the captives. He took a moment to torment them by just looking at them as he caressed the ferule, but he already knew who would bear the brunt of his punishment. In silence he began to unlock Jean-Luc’s tether. 

Beverly, desperate to stop what was about to happen, pleaded for her husband. “Please,” she beseeched. “Please, don’t hurt him.”  
Twenth responded by suddenly pushing the ferule under Beverly’s chin. Having attained her complete attention he said softly, “Every word you say will add two strikes to your husband’s punishment.” He pushed harder with the ferule. “So far you have uttered five words. That’s ten strikes, plus what he’s due anyway. Would you care to increase the tally?”

With tears of anger, frustration and fear coursing down her cheeks, Beverly shook her head. “Good.” Twenth said condescendingly. “Now remember, no words of encouragement, of endearment. You stay silent.”  
Beverly nodded again, but when she saw her husband’s back, buttocks, and thighs, with the evidence of earlier beatings clearly evident, she struggled to hold her tongue. Having hauled Jean-Luc to his feet by his still manacled hands, Twenth leaned to his ear and said quietly, while he unmanacled him and then re manacled his hands at the front of his body, “As you endure what’s to come, and later as you suffer in agony, remember this was caused by your dear wife.”  
Jean-Luc wanted to tell this monstrous being just how much he hated him, how much he wanted to kill him, but with the knowledge that anything he said would bring punishment down on Beverly, he remained silent. He was not silent through the hideous whipping though. As much as he tried to endure in silence, it took little time to wrench agonised screams from his mouth. 

In all he sustained twenty vicious blows of the ferule, each delivered with all of Twenth’s potent strength. In places he was cut to the bone, his hips and ribs showing bloody, creamy white in the open wounds. Jean-Luc bled heavily, so much so that Lannit was forced to intervene.  
He’d been counting the strikes quietly and had initially thought thirty would suffice, but on seeing the amount of blood Jean-Luc was losing, he put a stop to proceedings. Twenth was not happy, delivering three savage kicks to the helpless man on the deck of the shuttle before he gained control of himself, leaving the semiconscious man curled on his side. He sent Lannit an apologetic look, then left to go and wash the gore from his body and change his blood-spattered clothing.  
Beverly, appalled by what she’d witnessed, desperately wanted to examine her semi-conscious husband, but feared the consequences if she said anything. She watched with dread as Lannit toed Jean-Luc into a face-down position, then squatted to peer and poke at his lacerated back.

From just below his shoulders right down to mid-thigh, Jean-Luc’s back was a bloody, pulpy mess. Lannit rose and graced Beverly with a cold look. “I will seal some of the worst lacerations and he will be cleaned.” He toed Jean-Luc again, satisfied when the poor man groaned. “And if you all behave yourselves, then I will complete the healing of his skin. This...” he pointed to the mess of his victim’s back. “Does not make a good selling point. No buyer wants damaged goods, nor do they want to buy someone who seems to attract punishment.” 

He sniffed in obvious disgust and stepped away from Jean-Luc, but when he saw some blood spatter on his shoes and trousers, he said something Beverly didn’t understand, but by his angry tone she guessed he’d swore in his native language.  
When he left to change, the captives were momentarily alone. Beverly took the chance to talk quietly to her husband. “Jean-Luc, can you hear me?” she whispered. “Just nod your head if you can hear me.”  
Although his head was turned away for Beverly, he managed a single, small nod. “Good, that’s good.” Beverly said sympathetically. “Did you hear what Lannit said, what he said about giving you some medical aid?”  
Again Jean-Luc offered a small nod. “He didn’t say anything about a pain killer but having the worst of your lacerations closed will help a bit. At least you’ll be able to move around a little without those deeper cuts splitting open and bleeding again.”  
Jean-Luc nodded, and then slowly turned his head. He was still lying face down, but now he cracked open his eyes and looked at her. His voice was too roughened through screaming for it to work properly, so he mouthed, “I love you.”  
Tears reformed in Beverly’s eyes and quickly spilled down her face. She was about to return the endearment what Katya hissed, “Will you be quiet!” Beverly’s head snapped around to see Katya doing her best to glare.

Her face was very swollen, and heavy, dark bruising was developing under her almost-closed eyes. Blood seeped from both her nostrils and speaking had made her lips begin to bleed again. Undaunted by this, she continued, “I don’t know about you, Doctor, but I certainly don’t want to be punished for your disobedience and I’m guessing you don’t want him...” she gestured by pointing with her chin, “to cop it again. So, for god’s sake, shut up!”  
Beverly’s eyebrows rose, anger flooding her mind. She was about to remonstrate when she heard someone approaching. By the time Lannit had reappeared, Beverly had quelled her anger and was sitting quietly and compliantly.  
The alien cast a careful look at the captives, then dropped to one knee to use some sort of tissue fuser. He worked efficiently, obviously well-versed in the device’s function. Within scant moments the worst of Jean-Luc’s lacerations had been sealed.   
Beverly thought her suffering husband would be left to recover at least a little whilst still lying on the floor, but that wasn’t to be. Lannit waited until Twenth re-joined him and together they dragged Jean-Luc back to his place and hoisted him into a sitting position. They then took his manacles off, put his hands behind his back and re manacled him. The last thing they did was refasten him to the tether.

Giving the captives one last look, both males left. Beverly soon heard muted conversation and the sounds of a meal being taken. She cast Katya a quick look, only to see the woman with her head resting on the wall, her eyes closed. She may have been asleep, or at least trying to get to sleep, but Beverly didn’t care. As long as she didn’t hear Beverly’s whispers, she wouldn’t have cause to become upset.  
The redhead leaned her head close to Jean-Luc’s and whispered, “How are you doing?”  
Through many, many years of experience dealing with this particular man, Beverly was well used to his customary reply to any question about his state of health. Without fail the first words out of his mouth would be, “I’m fine.” He could have a limb dangling by a thread of tissue and have a temperature of 44C, but he would summon a smile and declare, “I’m fine.” So, when he shook his head, causing tears to flow down his stubbled face, Beverly knew he was struggling, and quite possibly losing that struggle.  
“I’m so sorry, Jean-Luc.” she breathed, her own tears flowing. 

He managed to give a small shake of his head. James, who had mercifully slept through his father’s torture, roused himself and yawned. Whatever drugs he’d been given still held him in their grip. He looked up at his mother from his position on her lap and blinked owlishly, before stuffing his thumb back into his mouth and drifting off to sleep once again. He was so quickly asleep his thumb slipped free in less than a minute.  
Beverly did her best to shift her body to better accommodate James, but he was so oblivious it didn’t really matter. She bent forward and placed a tender kiss on his brow then leaned back to resume talking to Jean-Luc.  
“I wish there was something I could do.” She whispered sadly. Jean-Luc shook his head and mouthed something, but Beverly didn’t understand what he was trying to say. She frowned and whispered softly, “What was that?”  
He put more breath into his words but winced as his expanding chest opened some of the shallower lacerations. “I said,” he grimaced. “you must escape ... with our children.”  
Beverly glanced over at Katya, causing Jean-Luc to whisper, “Yes, Katya too, but only if you can manage it. If an opportunity arises, you must take it. Leave her, leave me, just get yourself and the children away from these beings.”  
On seeing how much it had taken for Jean-Luc to summon the strength, both physical and emotional, to say those words, made Beverly refrain from arguing. She knew he was right, and she would look for any opportunity to do what he said, but she would also be looking to take her husband and colleague with her. 

To achieve an escape that only included her, and the children was a worst-case scenario as far as Beverly was concerned, and she would do almost anything to avoid it. Almost anything. The only thing that would force her to leave her husband and Katya behind would be unacceptable danger to their children. She would not compromise their safety in order to save the others. It would be a terrible burden to bear, but both parents knew that the preservation of their children was paramount.  
Beverly moved a little closer to her husband and whispered, “Put your head on my shoulder and try to relax. I know you’re in agony, but the less you ask your muscles to do the better.” She hadn’t actually acknowledged what he’d said, and that was unusual for Beverly. Sometimes, though not often, when he ordered her to do things she’d rather not, instead of her usual argument and confrontation, she would internalise her emotions and say nothing, acknowledging that sometimes her husband was compelled to do things he didn’t want to do as well. This was one of those times.   
A long silence ensued until Beverly, knowing Jean-Luc was still awake, remarked wryly, “That tattoo of yours is ... large.”  
He couldn’t stop the involuntary snort that escaped his nose, or the wretched groan of pain the action caused. Her comment was so ... Beverly. His tattoo could’ve been described in so many ways, but to merely call it merely, large was such a gigantic understatement he couldn’t suppress his amusement.

Although she hated the pain his reaction had caused him, Beverly was heartened by his humour. Lifting her knees, a little to steady James, Beverly leaned forward to get a better look. She gasped when she saw his genitalia, and then winced. She couldn’t see the entire tattoo, but what she could see made her grimace. “God,” she whispered. “that must’ve hurt.”  
“You’ve no idea.” Jean-Luc replied tiredly. “The underside of my cock has been heavily decorated and my scrotum too, I think, but I don’t know too much about that. It was hurting so much before; I can’t say for certain if it was inked there or not.”  
Beverly shook her head in disgust. “Why spend so much time tattooing your genitals? Didn’t they think they’d done enough on your torso? I mean, Jesus, Jean-Luc, that’s one hell of a big, colourful tattoo.”  
He nodded wearily. “I agree with you.” He whispered hoarsely. “It was Twenth who did it, and he thoroughly enjoyed doing it, too. He even tattooed as far into the urethral opening as he could. Hurt like hell, I can tell you.”  
“I bet it did,” Beverly whispered sympathetically. “You know, I think his violence is sexually motivated.”

“Probably.” Jean-Luc agreed, though he was very reluctant to discuss that aspect of Twenth. To that end he changed the subject. “How are the children?”  
The heavy sigh that came from Beverly worried the man. When Beverly whispered her reply his worry deepened. “James is still under the influence of whatever they gave him, and, although I’m grateful he didn’t witness what happened to you, I can’t help but be concerned that he hasn’t yet begun to recover.” 

Neither parent mentioned what they thought about James’s tattoo. Not knowing it wasn’t a tattoo, they simply hoped he’d been sedated while it was inked. “As for Elly?” Beverly continued, “She hasn’t stirred at all. She should be wanting to be fed and changed by now.”  
Despondency washed over both parents, their eyes moving to look at their sleeping daughter. There was nothing they could do, even asking for her to be checked, fed, or changed might bring terrible consequences, but both parents knew that if nothing were done soon, they would take that risk. They had too.


	3. Chapter 3

After eating their meal and withdrawing to their bedroom to enjoy a sexual encounter, both aliens lay on the bed, basking in the residue of their joining. Twenth sighed expansively, running the flat of his hand up and down his torso. His eyes were closed as he said languorously, “With so much going on, I don’t think I’ve told you the good news.”

Lannit lifted his head from the pillow, his eyes sharpening. “What news?” he said quietly, but with an edge that told Twenth to tread very carefully.  
He rolled onto his side and gave Lannit an open look. “Both females are pregnant.”  
“Both of them?” Lannit said incredulously. “Picard’s wife as well?”

“Yes.” Twenth replied happily. “It seems our pet doctor was mistaken.”  
“Ah, pudgy little Ehanne Hu.” Lannit said coldly. “And what of him? How is his health, these days, Twenth?”

The taller being adopted an overdone, sorrowful expression. “Oh, such a sad, sad demise.” me moaned, struggling to keep his laughter at bay. “It seems he had a fatal allergic reaction to metal.”  
“Really?” Lannit’s hand fluttered at his chest. “What kind of metal?”

Twenth’s expression changed to one of dark intensity. “The kind that comprises the blade of my favourite knife. As soon as it plunged through the top of his head, dear doctor Hu suffered the allergic reaction. He died instantly.”  
Lannit, aware his partner was once again erect, reached for the organ and began to caress it. Twenth’s nostrils flared as he detected the scent of Lannit’s arousal. “It was so good, Lannit ... I had such trouble controlling myself, I wanted to get to you and fuck until I found that unique place in my mind, the one you take me to, that one where nothing else matters...”  
“Then I shall take you there again, and I’ll join you, but Twenth...”

“Yesss...” Twenth breathed out slowly, already entering an altered mental state.   
Lannit’s eyes closed almost dreamily. “Don’t forget to tell me things, even if you’re busy. I don’t like it when you do that.”  
Twenth was about to summon his agreement, when Lannit emphasised his point by shoving his entire fist into the vagina-like organ below Twenth’s penis. The tall alien had derided Jean-Luc’s anatomy, criticising how vulnerable his genitalia was, but Twenth’s species were just as vulnerable. 

The only difference was that their weakness lay just inside their bodies. With knowledge, much the same crippling pain could be inflicted, their only saving grace being that the vulnerable area was inside them and only those who were aware it existed could exploit it.  
Lannit rotated his fist and angled it so that when he shoved it against the hot, wet, muscular wall of the organ with brutal force, Twenth was reduced to curling on his side and whimpering piteously.  
“Do you think you’ll remember now, Twenth?”   
The suffering male nodded.  
“And will you do it again?”  
Twenth shook his head.

“Good.” Lannit sighed expansively. “Now, let’s see if we can recapture the mood.” He slowly removed his fist, but replaced it with two fingers, which he gently pushed in and out. He smeared his free hand with some of the blood and viscous fluid seeping from Twenth’s vagina and used it as lubricant as he caressed and stroked Twenth’s now flaccid penis back to tumescence. It took a while, but such was his prowess, Twenth was once again erect and highly aroused.  
As compensation for what he’d done, when they began to have sex, Lannit spoke to Twenth, describing how he’d looked with his fist shoved deep inside, and how his cock and stiffened and leaked fluid in reaction to Twenth’s agony. It so heightened Twenth’s sexual experience he was left very dazed and euphoric for hours afterwards.

When the officer at tactical said quietly, “ETA at Haven, 5 hours, sir.”   
Will stood and glared at the passing stars, muttering, “It’s about damned time.”  
He turned and gave a curt nod to the young officer, acknowledging her report. He then faced forward again and addressed the officer at the helm. “Drop out of warp as soon as we enter the Haven system, then proceed at 3/4 impulse until we reach the planet.”  
The lieutenant cast a concerned look at the officer at the con. “Ah, Captain?” he said cautiously. “The maximum speed permitted within that system is ¼ impulse, sir.”  
Will gave the young man a long, uncompromising look. “Well, we’ll just have to apologise when we arrive.”

“Yes, sir.” The chastened officer returned his attention to his job. Deanna, who had been spending much of her time on the bridge, rose from her seat and went to stand beside her lover. “Captain.” she said softly and respectfully. “May I speak to you privately, please?”  
The days it had taken the Enterprise to get to the Haven system had been very difficult for Will, and for Deanna too, but as they were the only ones on board who knew the reason for their charge across space, they had to bear the stress alone.   
Now that they were so close, Will was having a great deal of trouble curtailing his impatience. He was well aware that in situations such as his friends, the Picards, were facing, time was an enemy. Will and Deanna both knew the kidnappers would want to conclude their business as soon as possible.   
Although it was true that the longer they held the goods, the higher the amount they would get for them, conversely, the longer they waited to sell, the greater the chance of them being captured, or worse, found and murdered by one of their customers, eager to get their prizes for free.

Eight long days had passed while the Enterprise hurtled towards Haven. The news from the planet was mixed. Civil unrest still blighted the population, but the focus had changed somewhat. Where before the numbers were tilted in favour of those defending their new religion, now it seemed that a swing had taken place with more and more people willing to defend their former secular position.  
Unfortunately, violence was still a problem, but the experts in charge of monitoring the situation expressed the opinion that the whole thing should resolve itself soon, perhaps within the next month or so. Will had considered asking the resort manager if they could check on the Picards, see if they’d heard anything about their whereabouts, but although it was a reasonable enough request, Will was concerned that it may arouse too much interest. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to launch an official search, and thus panic the kidnappers. Will and Deanna could only hope that their friends were still on Haven somewhere ... and still alive.  
Will was making a concerted effort to control his temper. Deanna didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of it; she’d experienced enough of that over the past few days. He stood back and gestured for her to precede him into the ready room, then went to the replicator to order hot drinks for both of them. He’d have preferred a neat scotch, or six, but not while on duty. So, resigned to his fate, he settled for a coffee and retrieved a hot chocolate for his lover.  
They sat on the sofa and sipped for a moment or two before Will reached for and took Deanna’s hand. “I’m sorry, Deanna.” he apologised quietly.  
It was an all-purpose a  
pology and Deanna accepted it as such. There were far too many instances of hurt and exasperation to make specific apologies for each and every one. He was apologising for his treatment of those crewmembers he’d worked with lately too.   
His brusque manner and impatient criticisms were so unlike his normal self, that some of the younger crewmembers had actually expressed the opinion that it’d be better to work under captain Picard, the very thought of which would normally send the younger crew into panicked terror, than this new and unwanted version of the acting captain. 

Deanna sighed and gave his large hand a squeeze. She showed she understood his broad apology by saying, “It’s not as if we can tell them why, Will.” she summoned a tired and worried smile. “I think the fact that the crew has just buckled down and got on with their jobs tells you all you need to know. Yes, they know something’s happening, something seriously bad, but their trust in you is unshaken.”  
Will ran a hand over his beard. “That’s very humbling to hear, Deanna, but...” his voice broke and he bowed his head. “But it makes me feel like shit.”  
“That’s understandable, Will, and the only way you’ll be able to rid yourself of feeling like that is to inform the crew about what happened ... after we’ve rescued our people.”  
Deanna gasped when Will lifted his head and she saw tears spilling over his eyelids. “But what if we don’t rescue them, Deanna? What if we’re too late?”  
Deanna had been thinking about that and gave Will a determined look. “Provided they aren’t dead,” she held up her forefinger to emphasise her words, “and I’d only accept absolute, incontrovertible proof of that,” she paused a beat, then continued, “If it can’t be proven they’re dead, then we keep looking until we find them. They may have been sold, or the kidnapper disposed of them some other way, but if their deaths can’t be proven, then we keep looking.”  
“You make it sound so simple.” Will said sadly, scrubbing his face with his hands. 

“It is.” Deanna stated calmly. “And if Starfleet won’t let us search, I’m willing to resign and do it privately. The Picards have a lot of friends in Starfleet; I doubt I’d have trouble getting help to do it.”  
“I’d resign too.” Will said firmly but was surprised when Deanna shook her head.  
“No, Will. In the event that Starfleet called off any search for the Picards, they’d eventually list the captain and Beverly ... Ensign Kurnov too, as missing presumed dead. In all likelihood, they’d give you the Enterprise and her captaincy. Now, that would put you in the perfect position to assist me and anyone who was with me in our search.”  
Will offered a respectful smile. “Damn, Deanna, you’ve really given this some thought.” 

“Yes, I have.” Deanna replied coolly. “I might not have the oomph you possess, Will, you’re acting captain and you’re physically intimidating, but I have my strengths, and chief among them is this.” She tapped her temple and Will grinned.  
“I pity the bad guys.” Will quipped, but his humour died when he saw the expression on Deanna’s face.   
“Don’t pity them, Will. These beings are utterly despicable. They don’t deserve your pity or anyone else’s. They certainly won’t get any from me.”  
Will was taken aback. He’d never heard Deanna be so cold towards anyone. It was then he realised the toll the situation had taken on his friend and lover. He hated hearing her say those things, but he agreed with her, he felt the same. He was now more determined than ever to catch those responsible. And if being incarcerated was the only punishment deemed appropriate for them, then Will would settle for that, but in his heart, he’d wish them dead every single day.

The call that came from the Havenite authorities made Will grimace. Despite the conversation he’d just had with Deanna, he’d not ordered a reduction in speed. He sighed and said quietly, “Helm, reduce speed to ¼ impulse.” He didn’t wait for the acknowledgement of his order; he was already addressing the officer at tactical. “Open a channel to the Haven interstellar regulatory body.”  
“Channel open, sir. I have the senior administrator for you, Captain, a Doctor Greft.”  
Will turned to face forward. “On screen.” he instructed quietly.

The female Havenite who appeared was obviously annoyed. She didn’t bother with any polite preamble, she simply demanded, “What do you think you’re doing? Since when do Federation vessels blatantly ignore the rules governing speeds within our system?” She took a quick breath and ploughed straight on, giving Will no opportunity to reply. “Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused? We had to reroute ships just to clear a path for that ostentatious behemoth ship of yours.” She took another breath and continued. “And as for your arrogance in ignoring our laws, well let me tell you...”  
That was as far as she got. Will was willing to accept admonishment, even a punishment of some kind, but to call him arrogant and insult his ship? Those things he certainly wouldn’t accept. He straightened his spine and squared his shoulders, his gaze becoming steely. “Doctor Greft,” he began, but was forestalled when the angry female held up her hand and shook her head. It only served to further annoy the acting captain. He ignored her attempt to silence him and spoke again, this time a little louder. “Doctor Greft!”

Her mouth snapped shut and she sat back in her seat, her expression one of tight barely contained irritation. “What?” she snapped waspishly.  
Will took a moment to calm himself. “Doctor Greft,” he began again in a milder tone. “I do apologise for our contravention of your laws, I can only offer, by way of explanation, that we are in the process of investigating what we believe is a serious crime and it was vitally important we reached your planet with all haste.” He paused, then added, “It still is.”  
There ensued an icy silence while Greft considered what she’d been told. Her reaction was predictable. “And what is this serious crime? Should I alert our authorities?” Her response was measured and reasonable, Will had to admit that, but he knew she wasn’t going to be happy with what he said next.

“I’m afraid I can’t share any details, Doctor Greft, the case is too sensitive for me to do that, and of course I’m under orders to that effect anyway.”  
“I see.” Her tone was now even colder. “So why didn’t you let us know you required an exception to our speed limits? Surely civility alone calls for some kind of warning?”  
“Again, I apologise, Doctor, but I felt it may have tipped our hand to those involved in our investigations.” he smiled sympathetically. “These things do have a way of escaping official circles and,” he held up his hands to ward off her predictable umbrage, “And I’m not saying it’s just Haven that has these problems. All worlds do.” he smiled to take the sting out of his words. “People talk, Doctor Greft, it’s not a criticism, or an allegation, it’s just people doing what people do.”  
Greft harrumphed but acceded his point. “Very well, but I must ask again, should I be altering our authorities? If this crime you speak of is serious enough for your ship,” she glanced to one side then again focused on Will, this time with her eyebrows raised, “The Federation’s flagship, to come hurtling to our system at high warp, then charge into our system well above the regulated speed, and with no prior warning, then I have to assume we have a serious problem here, one that I think our authorities should be alerted to.”

Will’s expression remained bland, but his tone was anything but. “I would’ve thought your authorities had enough to do, Doctor.”  
Greft’s eyes narrowed and she straightened in her chair. “Yes, I suppose they do, as you’re obviously aware, but Captain, is your investigation connected to our civil unrest?”  
“I’m sorry, Doctor Greft, but I can’t tell you that.”

“Perhaps your being here, and the circumstances of your arrival say much more than you can, Captain.”  
Will’s jaw muscles clenched. He couldn’t blame the female for her attitude, nor could he fault her reasoning. He believed she was genuinely concerned for her people. He sighed. “You will believe what you want to believe, Doctor, I cannot confirm or deny anything, but seeing as we’re about to achieve orbit around your planet, may I respectfully request you give us clearance to do so?”  
Greft sat back and gave Will a long look. She eventually sighed and shook her head, saying resignedly, “You have permission for a high, geostationary orbit. Send us your preferred coordinates.” Will thanked her, but before the channel closed, she said quietly, “And I will be informing our authorities as to why you’re here. What they do with that,” she held up her hands. “I couldn’t say.”  
Will nodded and the channel was closed. It had gone much as he expected, but now time was of the essence. He had discussed his strategy with Deanna, and she agreed with his plan in general terms, but she would’ve liked more time to polish off the raw edges. Time, however, dictated that he move immediately.

He hurried to his quarters to change out of his uniform, then reappeared on the bridge and invited Deanna into the ready room.  
“Ok.” He said, his excitement at finally being able to begin the investigation obvious. “You’re the ranking officer, so, as we discussed, you have command of the ship. My first stop will be the resort.”  
“Right.” Deanna replied with professional calm. “Your appearance there is going to rouse the authorities, especially if doctor Greft has already spoken to them.”  
Will shrugged. “Not necessarily. Deanna. With all the upheaval Haven’s experiencing, my presence may not be noticed at all.”  
Deanna’s smile was a wry one. “Three things, Will.” she said with a trace of amusement. “One: A guest now, while the unrest is at its worst would be very unusual, I seriously doubt there are any tourists still visiting. Two: You haven’t notified anybody, including the interstellar guest registry, and Three: The resort the Picards went to is a very exclusive one, a very discerning one. I’d suggest, even in these troubled times on Haven, that without a booking, no one is going to even acknowledge you.”  
Will was quickly growing annoyed. They had discussed his strategy for his investigation, but not how he was going to begin it. To have her throw up these tedious details now, when he was itching to get down to the planet, was irritating to say the least. Deanna knew this of course; she had very good reasons why she was doing what she was. Will finally saw her raised eyebrows and shook his head. “Out with it, Deanna.” he said, conceding to her ploy. “What are you trying to tell me?”  
“I’m just trying to let you know that even the simplest of things, like talking to the resort staff, isn’t going to be easy.” She frowned and added, “That’s if the resort is still staffed. It may be that there won’t be anyone to interview.”  
Will grimaced, he hadn’t thought of that. “So, what do you suggest?” he asked.

Deanna shrugged. “I don’t have any suggestions, Will. You’ll just have to go down there and play it by ear.”  
Will nodded and ran his fingers through his beard. “But you do agree that the resort is the best place to start?’  
“Yes.” Deanna said firmly. “Definitely, yes.”

Deanna had been right about the resort, it was deserted. Without the usual maintenance, the once pristine lawns were shaggy and leaves and palm-like fronds had gathered, pushed by the sea breezes into drifts against the walls.  
Will stood at the entrance, peering through the tall, glass doors, their frosted appearance courtesy of salt that had not been cleaned off. He could make out overturned chairs and a low table and reading material strewn across the floor. He turned and gave the immediate surrounds a careful scrutiny before testing the doors. They were stiff, but once they slid apart, he saw that the electronic lock had been destroyed.  
The lobby had been ransacked. He didn’t bother to check the desk, all the equipment was gone, even the optical cabling was absent. He wandered out to the decking where guests would’ve enjoyed their drinks from the large bar and peered out to the bures. They had the same scruffy appearance, and by the items he could see scattered on the all-round verandas, they had been looted too. His eyes swept left and right along the shore to see debris and broken bits and pieces of ruined furniture and pulpy masses that had once been real paper books. 

Oddly, though, he could see the on the right-side shoreline, the last 50 metres or so, right up to the hotel’s main building, was clean and free of rubbish. He went back into the lobby and was mulling over that seeming incongruity when he heard a noise off to his left. He cautiously approached a broken and sagging door and peered into the gloomy room. He saw very little but more evidence of looting.  
With his hand hovering near his hidden phaser he called quietly, “Is there anyone there?”

There was a sharp sound, as if his voice had startled something and it had knocked an item, then caught it to stifle the sound. Will knew there were no dangerous animals on Haven, at least not in the populated areas, but the resort was secluded and, he reasoned, any animal, even domesticated ones, when deprived of food and left to fend for themselves, could easily become feral.  
Besides, he thought grimly, animals didn’t try to cover any sounds they inadvertently made. Not like the one he’d heard. He removed his phaser from its hiding place in the seam of his shirt and immediately felt better as he hefted its small weight in his hand. Deciding he was dealing with a person, he raised his voice a little and said, “Come on out, but do it slowly. I’m armed and willing to use my weapon.”  
There was a tense silence before a shadowy figure rose from behind a gutted replicator. Will raised the phaser, but the person lifted their hands, and he heard a feminine voice. “Please ... don’t hurt me.”  
Will, still wary, gestured with the phaser, but kept his voice low and even. “I’m not going to hurt you. Come on out, it’s ok.”  
The female came out of the room, Will covering her as he backed away. Once in the brighter surrounds of the lobby, he could see that the woman posed no threat. Her clothing was in a poor state and, judging by her very thin frame, Will guessed she’d not been getting enough food.

He gestured for her to lower her hands and he did the same with his phaser, but he didn’t put it back in its place. He adopted a benign expression and asked, “Are you alone here?”  
Still obviously nervous, the woman nodded. “Yes.” she all but whispered. “I am ...was... the manager here. I am Frinna By.”  
Will was well aware of the names of the resort staff; it’d been part of his preparation to learn them. He squinted at the woman and tried to match her pale, gaunt face with the image on her file. After careful scrutiny, Will relaxed a little.   
He walked over to the doors and picked up the backpack he’d left there. Having rummaged inside he produced three field ration packs. He returned to Frinna and said quietly, “Eat these; it’ll make you feel better to get something decent in your stomach.”  
He could see she wanted to refuse, but her gnawing hunger got the better of her and she took the packs and ripped one open. She began to stuff the food in her mouth, prompting Will to gently take her hands. “Hey, slow down or it’ll come back up just as quickly as it’s going down.”

Frinna nodded, then followed Will as he made his way to the bar. Once inside he righted the one reasonably undamaged table and found a couple of chairs. “Sit down, Frinna, and take your time.”  
Will waited patiently as Frinna finished eating. He’d searched in the ransacked bar and was lucky to find a bottle of water. He’d placed it on the table and Frinna sipped from it frequently as she ate. Eventually she caught and held Will’s gaze.   
“You’re human.” It wasn’t a question, so Will didn’t respond to it. Instead he said, “I’m looking for some people, a family, all human. They were staying here...” he glanced around and added, “Until recently.”  
“The Picards.” Frinna said with a sigh. “Yes, they were here.”

Will hid his dismay at the way the female had spoken. She sounded sad, as if she knew something bad had happened to the family. “Do you know where they are?” he asked carefully.  
Frinna shrugged and sipped some more water. “No. I’ve heard some rumours, but nothing I could substantiate.” She sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get the tangles out. “Everything went crazy so quickly. One minute I was managing one of the premier resorts in this region and the next I’m hiding while the place is torn apart.” She sighed again and gave Will a sorrowful look. “Somewhere in that time the Picards simply vanished.”  
Will, his hands fisted on the table, struggled to keep his tone even. “You say you’ve heard rumours?”

Frinna shrugged and her face fell into a grimace. “I heard that the Picard family ended up in some sort of religious complex, but I don’t know where it is, or even if the rumour was true.”  
Will shook his head, his frown a deep one. “Frinna,” he said cautiously, “My friends, the Picards, they’re not religious, nor could they be convinced to follow any religion.”  
Frinna’s expression turned to one of utter disgust. “Oh, I believe you, but the situation here on Haven isn’t one of choice. It was originally, but as more and more of my people joined the cult, so the ability to choose became less and less likely. In the end it was join or suffer the consequences.”

“Suffer the consequences?” Will said incredulously, his stomach souring. Frinna saw his reaction and strove to placate him. “At least that’s how it was for us, the indigenous inhabitants, but somehow I doubt off worlders would suffer the same behaviour.” Her expression carried her disgust as she continued, “Most of Haven might have embraced the new religion, but we’re not so foolish as to alienate the people of other worlds. Like it or not, almost our entire economy revolves around tourism.” she smiled grimly. “Religious fervour would be difficult to maintain when you’re starving because the economy’s collapsed.”  
Will sat back and ran his hands through his hair. “So, Haven is lost to this cult?”

Frinna smiled with genuine happiness for the first time. “No.” she declared decisively. Before Will could question that statement, Frinna continued. “In recent weeks, a resistance has formed. More and more people are walking away from the cult, and many are beginning to reclaim what they’d lost.” Her smile faded and sadness once again settled on her face.  
“Things like families and homes.” she gave herself a mental shake and pressed on. “And it’s not only the fracturing of our society that’s being resisted; it’s the draconian, sexist ways that were being foisted upon us. We Havenites have enjoyed equality in the genders for centuries. The new ways might have been novel and exciting, but soon became a terrible burden for those who chose to identify with the cult as well as those discriminated against by it.”  
“So, your people are rejecting it.” Will finished. Frinna nodded. “Yes, and the resistance is gaining momentum very quickly. People are walking away from the complexes in droves.”  
Hope began to rise in Will. “So, if my friends were taken to a complex?”  
Frinna shrugged. “I can’t answer that, too much is dependent on which complex.”  
“Why?” asked Will urgently.

Frinna shrugged again. “Because the complexes run by Havenites are collapsing quickly, either by mass desertions or by calm and reasoned negotiation, but the ones run by Lannit Yan and his fellow-founder Eman, well, I seriously doubt their complex membership would collapse as quickly.”

“Again, why?” Will’s tone was sharp and harsh, making Frinna flinch. Will apologised immediately. “Forgive me, Frinna, I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you; I’m just very concerned for my friends.”  
The female nodded but gave Will a wary look. Nevertheless, she answered him. “With so many people hurt by what the cult has done, it’s inevitable there’ll be retaliations. I think most Havenites will forgive their fellow citizens, at least those who’ve not done anything too bad, but the same can’t be said for the founders. 

“Lannit Yan and Eman brought their vile cult here and hoodwinked the people into accepting it. Then they became more and more strict in how the worshipping should be demonstrated.” She sighed and shook her head. “The people are going to want those responsible to pay but with our infrastructure in such disarray and our government barely functioning, I seriously doubt those two will ever see the inside of a courtroom.”   
She wiped her eyes as tears began to flow. “I don’t want our people to take matters into their own hands; I desperately don’t want that to happen. We’re a much better society than that and the guilt, the wrenching remorse we’d suffer as a whole if some of us acted as vigilantes would be something we might never recover from.”

Will nodded his understanding, however he was confused. “But surely the founders know that? I mean, understand the danger they’re in?”  
Frinna’s shrug clearly showed her indifference. “Probably, but if they haven’t taken the opportunity to leave, then they’re complicit in whatever happens to them.”  
Will’s expression fell into worry and dismay. “Do you know if they’re still here, or have you heard anything as to their whereabouts?”  
Frinna shook her head. “I’m sorry, no.” She could see how worried the man was. “However...”  
Will sat forward, his gaze intense. “However?”

“I’ve a friend who has begun to come by each evening. We’ve started to attempt to set things right here. We began on the beach, gathering up the rubbish and...”  
Will cut her off. “I’m sorry, Frinna, I’m sure you’re doing a great job, but I need information.”  
“Oh, of course.” Frinna blushed and sent a look of contrition. “My friend may know something about the founders. His uncle worshipped with them for some time but left a few weeks ago.”  
Will sat back and debated waiting for this friend. He glanced at the tricorder hidden in his tunic and frowned at the time display. “Only 11.10”, he thought irritably. “Frinna said he came by in the evening. At this time of year, the sun sets at 21.30. Can I afford to waste that much time just on the off chance her friend knows something?” He sighed and grimaced. He knew he couldn’t afford not to.  
“Do you think he’d mind if I questioned him?” He asked mildly.

Frinna offered a by now familiar shrug. “I don’t see why not, it’s not as if he has anything to hide. But you’d need to do two things first.”  
Will’s gaze hardened with suspicion. “And what are those two things?”  
Frinna held up her forefinger. “One,” she returned his gaze with a bland expression. “You tell me who you are. And two,” she held up the next finger. “You give my friend some of your food.”  
Will’s gaze softened and he smiled. “I’ll happily give you both food, in fact I’ll arrange for a few weeks’ supply, but as for telling you who I am, I’m afraid I can’t go into details. I can tell you my name is Will, but that’s all.”  
“Will.” Frinna repeated, tilting her head. “Short for William, if I’m not mistaken?”

Will said nothing, giving her no clue whether she was correct or not. She huffed and gave a shrug. “Very well, Will, I accept that you can’t be more forthcoming, and I thank you for your generous offer of food. I’ve no doubt word will spread, and other hungry people will come to share what we have, but it’s far better than what exists now.”  
Will smiled and gave a shrug of his own. “Then, as long as you don’t say where it came from, I’ll triple the amount.”  
Frinna laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know where you came from, Will, and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to tell me, so like most things at present, everyone will just have to speculate.”  
“Fair enough.” Will chuckled. He then looked about and Frinna could see he was searching for something. “What are you looking for?” she asked curiously.  
“Well, we’ve got time to kill. How about we continue with your clean-up?”

Frinna’s thin, pale eyebrows rose. “That’s a great idea...” she then frowned, doubting he really meant it. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”  
“I don’t mind, Frinna. You go and start; I’ll join you shortly.” When she’d left and he was sure she was out of earshot, Will took out his communicator and contacted the Enterprise. He updated Deanna then ordered the field rations. It took some terse words of explanation before Deanna understood. The food was to be beamed down to a place just inside the encroaching jungle. Will would retrieve it later. He ended his communication and left the bar in search of Frinna.

With his head resting on Beverly’s shoulder, Jean-Luc had finally fallen into a restless doze. He was barely asleep, being unable to rest his back against the wall, and with his lacerated buttocks causing so much pain, every time his body began to relax enough for him to enter a deeper sleep, he’d lean back and his back would bump the wall, and that would increase his pain and drag him back up to a shallow doze.  
Beverly sighed gently as she watched her husband. She was terribly worried about him, but try a she might, she couldn’t rid her mind of the images of her rapes. Intellectually she understood her husband was not in control of his mind or his body, that if he could have, he would have refused to do what he did, but that didn’t help Beverly as the images scrolled unmercifully through her mind.  
She saw his raw lust, his hungry, predatory look as he advanced on her. She recalled his grunts and his guttural growls of release as he orgasmed again and again, but worse of all was her recollection of how he had overcome his reluctance to rape her the second time. She didn’t know what had been said to him to cause him to cast aside his reluctance, indeed, she understood it must’ve been something dire, but he did it, he got on the bed, grabbed his cock, shoved it into her brutally and then proceeded to repeatedly rape her.

Tears rolled down Beverly’s face as she struggled to remember her kind and caring husband, a man who took pride in his lovemaking with her, who strove to bring her the utmost pleasure. She sighed deeply, sorrow and despondency threatening to overwhelm her. “Will I ever see that in you again, Jean-Luc?” she said softly. “Will I ever be able to find the implicit trust we’ve always shared?”  
The low voice from her left made Beverly swing her head. “I doubt it.” Katya said sarcastically.   
Beverly felt anger rise and was going to say something cutting but caught herself and took a calming breath. “The last time we spoke of this I thought you were beginning to see his side of it.” she said quietly.   
“It may have seemed like that, Doctor, but it was just words.”  
Beverly sighed and shook her head. “You didn’t mean it?”

“No, I didn’t.” Katya replied coldly. “And I might as well tell you, if we ever get out of this situation, I fully intend to have him...” she gestured with her chin at Jean-Luc, “charged with multiple accounts of rape.”  
“Katya, no...” Beverly was shaking her head. “It won’t stand up to scrutiny. Once evidence is produced to show he wasn’t in control...”  
Beverly didn’t get to finish her sentence. “What evidence?” Katya spat. “Yours? Are you telling me that your testimony would differ from mine? And about the evidence ... what proof, medical or otherwise do you have to prove he was drugged? I mean apart from your opinion?”

Beverly was shocked. The amount of anger and spite exuding from the younger woman was frightening. “Katya, you’re not seeing this clearly. I don’t...” Again, she was interrupted.  
“I’m not seeing this clearly?” she hissed. “How dare you!” she shook her head. “You may wish to protect him, after all, he’s the father of your children, but I have no such issues. He raped me! Brutally and repeatedly, and I intend to make him pay for what he did to me!”  
The last words out of her mouth were shouted. Jean-Luc woke with a start, dazed, and confused. “What?” he croaked; his voice still not yet recovered. The dangerously mild voice nearby made Beverly gasp in fear.   
“Yes indeed, what?” Lannit repeated as he leaned against the doorway, a cold expression on his face. He let his gaze wander from person to person, eventually settling on Katya. “You’ve disturbed my rest.” The woman swallowed in fear, her swollen and disfigured face paling under Lannit’s blank stare.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered. Lannit shrugged and pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t really make up for what you did, does it?”  
When Katya didn’t reply, Lannit’s expression darkened. “No, it doesn’t.” he answered for her. “And you know what that means?”  
Again, Katya didn’t say anything. Lannit sighed and waved a hand. He spoke as one would speak to a child. “It means that I have to mete out punishment.”  
“No...” Katya whispered, terrified. She’d seen what had happened to Jean-Luc and, although she had no pity for him, she certainly didn’t want it to happen to her.  
Lannit shrugged. “Oh, you needn’t worry, I’ve no intention of punishing you.” Lannit smiled coldly. “As you’ve already been told, any punishments deemed necessary won’t be endured by those who have committed the offence.”  
Katya’s eyes slid to Beverly as she shook her head. “No...” she whispered again.  
Lannit’s smile widened. “No, not her.”

As realisation dawned, Katya’s expression changed. Though not exactly smiling, it was obvious she was completely unperturbed by the thought of Jean-Luc being punished again. Lannit came closer and squatted in front of her. “I was listening to your conversation.” he nodded thoughtfully. “And I can’t say I blame you for feeling as you do. I mean he did,” the alien cast a long look at Jean-Luc. “Yes, he did rape you, didn’t he?”  
Beverly was outraged. “He only acted as he did because of what you did to him! If he’d had any say in the matter...” She would’ve continued, but Jean-Luc said quietly, “Beverly ... please ... say no more!”  
Horror distorted Beverly’s face as she realised what she’d done. She gave Lannit a beseeching look and whispered, No ... Please don’t...”  
Lannit stood and shook his head. “Twenty-one words in your initial outburst, then three more. Twenty-four in total.”  
Beverly shook her head rapidly, unable to stop herself by saying brokenly, “No, me! Punish me!”  
“And four more!” Lannit crowed delightedly. “Twenty-eight, times two, of course.”

Reduced to sobbing, all Beverly could do was look at her husband in abject horror. With his own tears beginning he looked up at Lannit and shook his head in silence. Twenth appeared beside his partner and flexed his arms. “And let’s not forget the punishment for disturbing us.” he said with obvious anticipation. “The fifty-six now accrued are extras.” He moved closer to Jean-Luc and tapped his forehead, then looked over his shoulder and gazed up at his partner. “I have a suggestion.”   
Lannit gently gripped Twenth’s shoulder and encouraged him to move back. He then inclined his head, letting Twenth know his words were for him alone. The larger being whispered quietly and a smile spread across Lannit’s face. He nodded and gave Twenth a long look. “Excellent suggestion, Twenth, old friend. Take him off his tether but leave the manacles on.”  
Twenth did as instructed and released Jean-Luc. Beverly could only watch as her husband was dragged from the room, his fate unknown.  
He was gone almost an hour, but as Beverly had no way to measure the passing time, each minute felt like an hour. 

Once he was inside the kidnapper’s bedroom their intentions were made clear. He was raped by both males, anally and orally and repeatedly. The only concession that was made was to be less brutal in the way he was violated but only so that less damage was done.   
Lannit, always keeping in mind his victim’s value as an auction item was careful to repair most of the resulting injuries, but some of the internal tears and bruising had to be left to heal on their own as he lacked the expertise and equipment to do any better. He was then beaten with the ferule. As before the worst of the lacerations were sealed.  
Jean-Luc was barely conscious and in deep shock when he was returned and reattached to his tether. Twenth grinned at Beverly and lifted a forefinger to his lips in a ‘shh’ gesture. Her eyes blazed with hatred, but she managed to remain silent until their captors left the room.

As Beverly began to speak quietly to her husband, James began to cry. He rose to consciousness rubbing his eyes and complaining in a discontented whine, “Maman, my head hurts.”  
Now torn between James and Jean-Luc, Beverly bent forward to place a kiss on James’s head. Alarm skittered through her as her lips detected heat radiating out from the boy. She’d thought he felt hot on her lap but reasoned the above-normal temperature in the room was to blame. And she admitted to herself, her overriding worry for her husband had distracted her.  
“Maman’s kiss will make it feel better, James.” She placed another kiss on his head. “See if you can go back to sleep, that’ll help too.”  
The little boy began to squirm, and then felt the tug of his manacle. He tried to pull his hand back, only to be brought short up by the tether. He began to cry more loudly. “Maman, I don’t like it! Take it off!” He lifted his arms, wanting and expecting a cuddle, but when Beverly didn’t react as he felt she should, he started to wail. “Maman! Cuddle!”

“I can’t, James.” Beverly said as gently as she could. She was exasperated and heartsick, wanting nothing more than to comfort her little boy but couldn’t, nor could she make him understand why.  
James didn’t hear her over the noise he was making and in truth, he was heartbroken. He felt sick and hot and he had a bad headache and his beloved maman seemed to be refusing to comfort him. His wail soon reached almost hysterical levels as only a sick, almost two-year-old can muster. And just to top it all off, Elly woke as well, screaming.

Both Twenth and Lannit quickly appeared, shouting to be heard over the din. “What is going on?” Lannit yelled. “Make them stop!”  
Beverly’s eyes blazed as she shouted her reply. “And just how am I supposed to do that?” she barred her teeth and added, “My hands are manacled behind my back!”  
Instead of making any move to release her, Lannit shouted, “What’s wrong with them? Why are they making those outrageous noises?!”  
The sneer that Beverly offered made her feel savagely satisfied. “Do you want me to make a list?”

Twenth stepped forward, moving very quickly for one so large and backhanded Beverly with his closed fist across her face so hard she lost consciousness for some minutes. As she came to it was to hear her husband shouting as best he could, “Our daughter must be hungry and in need of a nappy change by now and our son feels very unwell, so being unable to be comforted by either of us, they’re distraught.” The worry over his children had given him strength to engage his torturers.  
After sharing a look, both aliens left the room. Beverly sent Jean-Luc a look that both conveyed her thanks and to let him know she was all right. He was unconvinced though, as blood flowed freely from a long, gaping split under Beverly’s right eye and the eye itself was beginning to close as her facial tissue swelled. 

He knew she was going to have a large, nasty bruise and no doubt a dreadful headache. There was no point in even attempting any conversation, it was just too difficult with the cacophony of noise the children were making, but both parents did try to comfort them vocally, speaking comforting words and crooning.  
It had little effect. In fact, Beverly and Jean-Luc were becoming more and more desperate to find a way to offer them comfort, when they heard singing. It took a moment or two before they realised it was Katya. James quietened first. He heard the lulling voice as he was taking a breath and suddenly stilled to listen. He continued to cry but was increasingly calmed by Katya’s beautiful voice. Soon he was lying quietly in Beverly’s lap. Elly took longer to calm, but she, like her brother, eventually fell silent, as the lulling song washed over them. 

Neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly understood the words, indeed they were in a language neither had heard before. Jean-Luc was remarkably familiar with alien languages too, yet he could find nothing even similar in his mind.  
The tune too was exotic, seeming to not conform to any particular style, yet remain utterly beautiful. It even calmed the adult listeners, Katya included. Her eyes were still swollen almost closed, but Beverly could see she was drifting in her song, totally relaxed.  
Lannit returned with Twenth and stood for a moment or two, taking in the scene. Then working quickly and silently, they un-manacled Beverly and Katya, but not before they made it clear she was to continue to sing. Beverly was then given what was necessary to change Elly and then, after tense, whispered consultation with Beverly, a bottle of formula was retrieved to feed the baby.  
Lannit then gave Beverly an instrument she recognised would assist her in performing a medical scan of both James and Elly. As she’d already guessed, it showed the children were suffering the aftereffects of the drugs they’d been given. She whispered that information to Lannit, but all he did was shrug. 

Beverly surmised from that that the children would just have to get over it, as he had nothing to treat their symptoms. In a way that suited Beverly. She didn’t want any more drugs administered to her children, but Lannit had something to say. Still whispering he said, “Keep them quiet, or I’ll drug them far more heavily than I did before. They might not wake up. Ever.”   
Beverly was permitted to stay free of her manacles and she cuddled her son, though he soon wanted her to release him as he felt so hot. Katya too was free, her tasks to gently cradle Elly and sing, two things she was happy to do. Elly was left just in her clean nappy, her little body radiating too much heat for anything else.

Once the two captors had left the room, Beverly beckoned Katya to move closer. She refused at first, not wishing to be near Jean-Luc, but as she sung, she noticed that James was looking for his sister, even reaching out for her once he’d found her. She moved closer slowly and reluctantly, taking every opportunity to send Jean-Luc venomous glares.   
He bore her hatred with seemingly little emotion, but the fact was he was suffering too much to really care. The latest atrocities he’d endured had almost broken him. When the rapes were finally over, he dimly thought he’d be taken back to his family and the relief he felt at surviving the sexual violence made him weep, but when Twenth forced him to stand on the bedroom floor while his hands were un-manacled from behind him, then re-manacled in front, he knew he was about to be beaten again.  
He tried to find a way to prepare, but he was never going to succeed. He heard the hateful whistle of the ferule as it travelled through the air, powered by Twenth’s great strength. It struck Jean-Luc’s back, opening a deep laceration from side to side. He pitched forward, unable to cope with the pain and shock, but Lannit gripped him under his arms and hoisted him to his feet. He had to be held upright, his legs no longer able to support him. Somewhere, as if at a great distance, he heard someone, presumably Lannit, laugh and say, “Don’t forget his tight, firm backside.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” came the cruelly amused reply. The next fifteen blows were delivered to Jean-Luc’s buttocks and upper thighs before returning to his back. He was beaten so badly that the skin of his back from his shoulders to his backside was turned into a bloody, pulpy mass again. At the end of the beating both Lannit and Twenth raped him orally again, then, incredibly, raped him by taking his genitals into their mouths in turn and then beating him savagely when he failed to achieve an erection.   
Jean-Luc barely heard one of them say, “Remind me to inject him before we play with him again.” Jean-Luc felt two blows delivered to his genitalia, but such was his all-encompassing pain, he hardly registered it.  
“Agreed.” someone answered. “It takes away from the experience if he doesn’t show some kind of enjoyment.”  
There was a soft grunt of agreement. “It’s not as if he wasn’t given the opportunity to take part, I mean how many get to experience the privilege of being given oral by either one of us, let alone both?!”  
It was then that Jean-Luc decided he couldn’t cope any longer. He allowed his body to completely relax and he closed his eyes, letting out all his breath. He reasoned that he’d lose consciousness and while out cold he might find some way to make his heart stop beating. Of course his thinking was disordered and, as he possessed an artificial heart, it was highly unlikely he’d be able to make it stop by willpower alone, but as his vision greyed he smiled, thinking he was about to end his suffering for good.  
Twenth looked down at his victim and saw the change as his body relaxed. He offered a raised eyebrow to his partner and the winked, giving a watch this look.  
He toed Jean-Luc’s body and, when he received no reaction, he drew his foot back and kicked three times with such brutal force that Jean-Luc’s body was moved right across the room. Even using his bare feet, the damage he wrought caused agony great enough to rouse the wretched man. He curled into a tight ball and whimpered piteously.

Twenth would’ve continued, but Lannit placed a hand on his shoulder, saying quietly, “Enough, Twenth, we have to keep in mind his value as an auction item.”  
It took several long moments for Twenth to rein in his violence. He took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right, of course, but oh, it’s so fucking arousing to have him so helpless…”  
Lannit let his eyes drop to Twenth’s turgid erection and offered a sympathetic smile. “I know, and I agree with you, but we have to look at the bigger picture.” He smiled to ease Twenth’s disappointment. Lannit decided it was wise to give his partner a consolation of sorts. “Tell you what,” he said with a saucy look. “I’ll treat his obvious injuries, you know, clean him up etc. and then I’ll come back and help you with that.” He gestured to Twenth’s stiff cock and raised his eyebrows.  
Sending a smouldering look, Twenth nodded slowly as his hands caressed his erection. “Lannit?” he said quietly. The smaller alien lifted an eyebrow in silent response. “Don’t be long…” Twenth said with heated intensity, and then added, “Please.”  
Lannit’s expression was a triumphant one and it irked Twenth, yet again. Somehow Lannit had stolen Twenth’s arousal and turned it into a way to make him feel like Lannit was doing him a favour, instead of suggesting they share a mutually desired, incredibly heated sexual encounter.

Twenth watched as Lannit heaved Jean-Luc from the floor and draped him over the bed in preparation to sealing the worst of his lacerations. Nothing was said for the ten minutes that took, but as Lannit urged Jean-Luc to his feet, then wrapped one arm under his shoulders and around his torso to support him, Lannit risked his life by murmuring, “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”  
Lannit hesitated, waiting for and expecting the added, “please”, but it never came. His face was set in a grim expression as he all but dragged Jean-Luc back to the captives’ room. It might not be immediately, but Twenth would pay for his lapse.

Now that the children had settled, Beverly turned her attention to her husband. As she’d been so distracted, then violently assaulted into unconsciousness, she’d not given much thought to his injuries. She assumed he’d been beaten again with the ferule, but why he’d been removed to do that was a mystery to her. She leaned forward a little, intending to catch his eyes, but what she noticed was two lacerations to his penis. The red gashes that interrupted the design that had been inked into his tender flesh caught her attention immediately. They were seeping blood and she frowned, trying to figure out why their captors would aim their blows at her husband’s cock.  
“Jean-Luc?” she said gently. He barely roused at the sound of her voice. He had managed to somehow summon the strength to try and help his children, but once he was assured they had settled, he’d descended into a stupor that made him all but unaware of his surroundings. Beverly tried again and again to rouse him, but eventually had to give up. Whatever he’d endured had overwhelmed him to such an extent that he’d withdrawn almost completely. Beverly could only hope that he would come back to her soon.

Will and Frinna had managed to achieve quite a bit in the hours that passed. Almost all of the reception area and adjoining bar was once again neat and tidy, and a growing pile of junk was being created on the beach. To enjoy the late afternoon sun, the pair switched their focus to continuing the cleanup of the shoreline. Along with the large junk pile from the indoor areas, there were also three more piles of debris on the sand. Frinna had told Will it was her intention to burn the junk later that evening.  
Just as the sun began to set, Will retrieved some field rations and bottled water. Frinna set the piles alight and they sat on the sand, eating, and watching as the blazes took hold. Will could see that by the time the tide rose fully, the junk would be all but completely consumed, and the sea would take care of the residue. With only a light offshore breeze, he knew the fires wouldn’t cause any problems.  
They had finished their meal and were chatting quietly when a wary voice called from the darkness. “Frinna?”

The petite, svelte female rose and smiled in the dying light of the fire. “Yes, it’s me.” she replied confidently. The owner of the voice, however, remained cautious.  
“You’re not alone.”  
At a gesture from Frinna, Will stood and adopted a deliberately relaxed posture. “This is my new friend, Will.” Frinna explained. “he’s been helping me nearly all day. We’ve got a lot done.”  
“Yes.” agreed the disembodied voice. “I’ve been inside.”  
“Are you going to join us?” Frinna asked, hopefully.

The male didn’t reply vocally, but soon stepped into the diminishing firelight. He gave Will a wary look before smiling at Frinna. “I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the inside of the reception building. It looks great.”  
“Yes,” Frinna grinned, then waved a hand at Will. “He did most of the work, though. I just directed him.”  
“Not true!” Will protested with a warm chuckle. “She worked damned hard.”  
The male offered a slow nod and a warming smile. He stepped forward and extended his right hand. “Corx.” he grinned by way of introduction, and then amended, “Corx Dargz. Pleased to meet you, Will, and thank you for helping Frinna. She sometimes takes on things that are a little out of her reach, literally and figuratively.”

Will gave a quiet chuckle but instantly sent Frinna an apologetic grin. “I have a very dear female friend who’s height challenged, but I wouldn’t dare mention it in front of her.” his grin widened. “You’re a brave man, Corx.”  
“Or simply very foolish.” the newcomer lamented. He was tall for a Havenite; standing almost eye to eye with Will, but where Will was husky and powerfully built, Corx was slender. Will knew, however, that build often had little relation to strength. He knew of many slender or lightly built individuals who possessed remarkable physical strength, his captain was one such person.   
Corx had a full head of longish dark hair, but by the general scruffiness of his appearance, Will guessed the man usually kept his hair shorter. His beard, which was an unusual trait for his species, was also uneven.  
As Will was assessing Corx, so Corx was doing the same with Will. He summed up his inspection by saying, “You’ve not been here long.”  
Immediately on his guard, Will offered a small nod. “No, I haven’t.” he replied calmly. Frinna chose that moment to explain, “He’s looking for some friends, Corx. The human family who were staying here, at the resort.”  
Corx nodded thoughtfully and kept his tone even as he said, “If you’re looking for your friends, Will, why have you taken the time to help Frinna? It’s not as if the resort will be taking guests any time soon.” He smiled to reassure Will he meant no offence. “I would’ve thought you’d want to keep looking, not waste your time here.”

It was Frinna who answered Corx’s concerns. “It was my idea he wait, Corx.” she sighed deeply. “He’s looking for the family who disappeared, you know, the one rumoured to have been taken to a complex?”  
Corx’s eyebrows rose as realisation dawned. “Ah! You have my uncle in mind?”  
“Yes.” Frinna admitted with a smile. “But I also I told Will you might have some information as to where his friends were taken, or even where they are now.”  
“But mostly my uncle might have the information.” Corx said wryly. Frinna bowed her head in embarrassment. “Yes.” She replied in a small voice. Corx sighed and gave Will a long look. “And helping Frinna? Was that to sweeten her, or me?”  
Will expression hardened. He didn’t like the tacit implication that he was trying to curry favour with either of them, and he wasn’t fully convinced that Corx wasn’t implying he had a sexual motive for wanting to help Frinna.  
The acting captain stared implacably at Corx, long enough to make the younger male drop his gaze. Will then said evenly, “Neither. I decided to wait so I could talk to you and to pass the time I helped with the clean-up.” His voice dropped and became very quiet yet lost none of its intensity. “And anything else you’ve got in your mind about my motives is simple fantasy on your part.”  
Frinna stepped over to the male and took his hand. “Corx, please,” she glanced over to Will. “he just wants to find his friends.”

The Havenite male sighed and shook his head. He seemed to give himself a mental shake. “I apologise, Will,” he gave Frinna a tender look, making her flush. “I’m unused to dealing with jealously, but these are dangerous times. I, like everyone else, has learned to question everything.” The statement seemed to sadden him. “Something we should’ve done when the founders first arrived.” He squeezed Frinna’s hand and again allowed his obvious love to shine in his eyes. “I should never have questioned Frinna’s love, though.”  
Will gestured to the fire and said, “Why don’t we stoke this up again and talk. Once I have all you care to tell me, I’ll leave.”  
Corx nodded and smiled with genuine warmth. “Agreed.” 

They spent ten minutes collection burnable debris and coaxed the fire back to life. Once seated on the warm sand, Will said, “Ok, do you have any information about my friends?”  
“I do,” Corx replied cautiously. “but I think Frinna is correct about my uncle. He’s mentioned a few things, but he’d know more, certainly.”  
“Right.” Will said enthusiastically, his hopes rising. “Please, tell me all you can ... even any rumours you may have heard.”  
“Well,” Corx began, “I do know there was a human male taken to the complex the founders gave religious instruction in.” He tilted his head to one side in thought, “And I think perhaps some female humans too, but I’m not so sure about that.” He was quick to explain himself. “I am sure that some human females were taken to a complex, but I don’t know exactly which one, which complex.”

“Have you heard anything about any human children? A young boy and an infant girl?” Will asked worriedly. It was encouraging to hear something about the adults, but no mention of the children made Will fear for them.  
Corx shrugged. “Children?” he replied and shrugged again while shaking his head. “No, I’ve heard nothing about any human children.” He saw how worried Will was and added, “But it would be unusual to have children in the complexes. The religious education of the children, our children that is, was to be carried out in their homes by trained personnel. The complexes were for those of 17 years and older.” he sighed, his disgust obvious as he continued, “and males only.”  
Will gave the information some thought and sighed, saying cautiously, “Corx, would it be all right if I talked to your uncle?”  
Corx shrugged. “I don’t think he’d mind, Will, but it is getting late and he’s not a young man.”  
Will smiled to let Corx know his next words weren’t to be taken personally. “I accept that, and I’m sorry for being insistent, but as you’ve already pointed out, I’ve spent many hours here waiting for you. It’s really is important I gather all the information I can before I continue my search.” He sighed sadly. “There’s no point in me just bumbling around and hoping I come across something useful. I need solid information to work with.”  
Corx gave Will a long look, then nodded decisively. “All right, I’ll take you to my uncle’s home.”

Frinna stood and brushed the sand from her skirt. “Will?” she said quietly. “You might find Corx’s uncle will be more receptive if he had a full belly.”  
Corx gaped at the woman. “He has food?”  
Will bowed his head in apology. “Forgive me, Corx, I should’ve offered some to you. Yes, I have a large supply of field rations.” He smiled and gestured to the fire. “You wait here for just a few minutes and I’ll get some for you and your uncle.”  
While Will was gone, Corx asked Frinna, “Who is he?”  
Frinna shrugged. “He won’t tell me, but my guess is he’s Starfleet. The field rations he gave me are of high quality and he accessed them within moments of finding I was very hungry.”  
“Humph.” Corx grunted. “Nice of him to share.”   
Frinna was quick to set her friend right. “He is sharing, Corx. He’s arranged for a large quantity to be available for anyone who wants them.” she sighed. “I think he was just too preoccupied with finding his friends to remember to tell you.”  
“Yes,” Corx conceded. “I suppose that’s understandable, given the circumstances.”  
Will quickly returned and the three left, carrying plenty of field rations.

Eventually Katya stopped singing. Even with the threat of more punishments, she had to stop, her voice, already weakened by her screaming during the sexual assaults, was fading. When the captors didn’t appear both she and Beverly relaxed a little. Katya pointed at her throat and muttered huskily, “Worn out.” Beverly smiled her understanding and said quietly, “You have a lovely voice, Katya.”  
The younger woman offered a perfunctory smile which didn’t reach her eyes, and a diffident shrug. Knowing that further conversation was pointless, Beverly turned her attention back to her husband. James, who was feeling a bit better, was quietly sucking his thumb. “Maman?” he murmured around the digit. “Papa is a lot asleep.”

Usually Beverly gently corrected his speech, but she was too worried and tired to bother. She smiled at her son and tenderly brushed his hair back. It had grown and she marveled at how it changed his face.  
To redirect his attention, Beverly traced his body art with her fingers. “Tell me about this, James.”  
The boy shrugged and sucked his thumb for a few moments before sig  
hing. “Don’t know.” he mumbled. “I went to bed and I woke up and it was there.”  
He looked down at himself and giggled. “I like it, it’s nice colours.”  
He then glanced at his father’s much larger, bolder and more colourful tattoo. “Papa’s is big.” But then craned forward and frowned. He looked down at himself again then up at his mother. “Papa’s willie has lots of drawings and lots of colours. Mine hasn’t.”   
Beverly hugged the lad to her, thankful that his temperature had dropped markedly. She turned to look at Katya, sending her a meaningful look that the younger woman quickly understood. She lifted the sleeping Elly and gave a small smile and a nod. Beverly smiled warmly, thanking Katya, and acknowledging the silent message. Yes, it said, Elly’s fine.

Beverly glanced down at Jean-Luc, noting his slack jaw and uneven, shallow breathing. “Pity the same can’t be said of you, Jean-Luc, my love.” She murmured quietly. She sighed then, wondering yet again what was going to happen to them.

Lannit pushed back from his console and let out a long breath. Twenth, sitting beside him and watching keenly, couldn’t help but blurt, “Well?” When Lannit didn’t reply immediately, Twenth urged, “What did they say?”  
He knew his lack of patience would irritate Lannit, just as he knew that allowing himself to question Lannit prematurely would as well, but their venture was reaching a critical phase and he was desperate to know what was happening.   
Lannit stared coldly at his excited partner, debating whether to put him in his place … again. He’d specifically told him to wait in the dining area while he completed the communiqué, but such was Twenth’s impatience and impetuousness, he’d barged in just as Lannit was concluding the call.

Lannit was slowly concluding that his old friend was becoming a problem. Yes, he made a good sexual partner, but it wouldn’t be all that difficult to find another that would serve that purpose. However, what would be awkwardly hard to find was someone who shared Lannit’s penchant for violence and sadism. Their species were generally quite civilized and cultured; individuals with the debauched tastes of Lannit Yan and Twenth were, thankfully, rare. However, for Lannit, this was an irritating and decidedly unwanted wri8nkle in his life.  
Lannit decided to put his musings aside for the moment, and his contemplation on how to make Twenth aware of his transgressions … and pay for them. He looked up at the older male and summoned a predatory smile.   
“The viewing will occur in three days.”

Twenth was almost hopping from foot to foot. “How many, Lannit? How many are coming?”  
“The bidding has narrowed to five potential buyers.” Lannit sighed, as if disappointed. “Those five will come.”  
Twenth frowned, confused that his partner seemed unhappy with the situation. “But five is good, isn’t it?” When Lannit simply shrugged, Twenth asked urgently, “What’s the highest bid up to?”  
Lannit held his ruse for several long minutes, enjoying Twenth’s anguish. He then allowed his face to crease into a wide grin. He rose to his feet and planted a companionable hand on Twenth’s shoulder. “Seventy-five thousand bars.”  
Twenth gaped and then parroted, “Seventy-five thousand bars?” He shook his head in astonished wonderment. “Seventy-five thousand bars?” he repeated, and then added incredulously yet superfluously, “Of gold-pressed latinum?” and then he abruptly sat in Lannit’s recently vacated seat. His suspiciously watery eyes went to his partner’s and his chin quivered as he asked, “For all of them, surely?”

“No.” Lannit said, still grinning. “Just for Picard.” He then held up a finger. “But…” he emphasised. “The deal I’m negotiating is that the older female, you know … his wife, be thrown in as a gesture of goodwill; however, I do feel that we should ask something extra for her as she is pregnant.”  
Twenth nodded so quickly he pulled a muscle in his neck, causing him to wince and raise a hand to massage the affected area. “Yes!” he agreed enthusiastically. “And what about the younger female? She’s conceived too.”  
Lannit sneered and his eyes grew cold. “I know.” he said dryly. He then shrugged. “Her only real value is the offspring she carries. Human females aren’t rare; they can be taken relatively easily, as we know.” His expression softened. “But to have a human female who carries the offspring of Jean-Luc Picard? That’s another thing entirely.”

Twenth was still happy but had begun to calm down and think. “A buyer might find that having both females, each carrying Picard’s offspring, could provide exceptionally good leverage to use against him. I mean you could make him do almost anything by threatening his wife, but his pregnant wife? And the other woman he impregnated?” Twenth grinned coldly. “He couldn’t refuse anything! He’d be helpless, held hostage by his own stupid, fucking sentimentality!”  
“And let’s not forget the children he already has.” Lannit reminded his partner. “I think he’d do anything to protect them as well.”  
Twenth shrugged, his expression cruel. “While I agree that they hold value simply by being his children, I know of some in the Ferengi Commerce Guild…” he snapped his fingers, “And the Orion slave trader’s collective, who would either pay handsomely for the children, or find a buyer who would.”

“True enough.” Lannit conceded. “Let me keep negotiating. I’ve not added their existing children into the mix, yet. Who knows what our buyer’s want? Who knows,” Lannit grinned lasciviously, “Why they want it?”  
Twenth chuckled and slapped Lannit on the back while shaking his head. He grimaced again when his damaged neck muscle complained. “So,” he said happily. “We have three days to wait.” He peered out of the front viewscreen and frowned. “When will we get to our ship?”  
Lannit gave Twenth a withering look as he made it clear that looking out of the viewscreen was a stupid thing to do as it told Twenth nothing other than the fact they were travelling at sub-warp speed. He made sure Twenth watched as he consulted the readouts on the cockpit console.

“My original plan would have us arrive at our ship in six days from now but, obviously, I will amend that. It means increasing our speed to warp three and taking a more direct course, but I doubt that will change things much, as far as any searchers are concerned. We should make it to our ship in two days.” he smiled with satisfaction. “And anyway,” he said smugly, “Picard’s comrades probably don’t even know he’s missing.”  
“Indeed.” Twenth chuckled. “And the way things were on Haven when we left, I doubt anyone’s going to bother about reporting his disappearance in any case, even if anyone’s noticed.”  
Both males laughed, the Lannit yawned. “I’m tired, Twenth. Go and check on our goods, then come to bed.”  
“Gladly.” Twenth said tenderly. Lannit watched as he left the cockpit, contemplating just how much pain he was going to inflict. His cock hardened automatically.

When the door whispered open, Beverly tensed. She watched warily as Twenth entered and made a show of checking Jean-Luc’s manacles and his tether. The semi-conscious man didn’t react in any way and that seemed to please Twenth. He patted Jean-Luc’s head, as one would do to a pet, then moved on to give Beverly, James, Katya and even Elly an inspection of sorts. What he thought he might find was a mystery to the adults, but fearing reprisals, the women remained passive and silent. Katya endured Twenth’s rough pawing of her breasts, but when she showed little reaction, he quickly became bored and moved away. The door opened but he hesitated at the threshold, turning to face his captives.  
“I’m leaving the shackles off only so you can tend to the offspring, but if you give me cause, any cause, I will manacle your hands behind your backs and re-tether you.” His eyes gleamed, as if excited by the thought and eager to carry it out.   
His warning was directed at the adults, and James as well, but his cold, hungry gaze was fixed on Katya. “Punishment can take many forms, and tender flesh is easily hurt, especially the intimate, hidden, private places in the body.” He grinned salaciously and licked his lips. If Katya noticed the growing bulge in his trousers, she studiously ignored it.

Beverly watched, alarmed, and frightened for her friend. Twenth kept staring at the younger woman so long Beverly felt sure he was going to either sexually assault Katya then and there, in the room, or take her away to do it. The doctor wracked her brains, trying to come up with a strategy that could dissuade him, yet one that would spare any punishments.  
In the end he saved Beverly from risking their wellbeing by grunting and abruptly leaving the room. There was a collective release of breath from the two women. They both knew how close Katya had come to being raped again.  
Beverly tilted her head to see under Katya’s lowered brow. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly.  
Katya didn’t lift her head, but she nodded and replied shakily, “Yes, but I’m so scared!” A wrenching sob escaped her, jolting her body, and making Elly stir. “What if he comes back and…”  
Beverly cut her off before she could become hysterical. “If he does, we’ll find a way to deal with it!” Beverly said firmly, trying to convey confidence she didn’t actually feel. She then added, “With him!” It sounded weak, even to her own ears.  
When Katya lifted her head she stared at Beverly, she was incredulous and angry. “And just how are we supposed to do that?” she spat heatedly. “Have you noticed I’m holding your baby? What do you think you or I can do to stop him, when all he has to do is threaten Elly … or James, for that matter?” She then sent a cold glare towards Jean-Luc. “And we can’t expect any help from him, can we?”

Beverly’s anger showed in her voice as she hissed, “You leave him out of this!” She glanced at the insensate man and sighed. “They did this … they caused him to be like this … you should have some compassion for him, or at least some pity.”  
Her voice had softened as she spoke but Katya’s spiteful reply reignited Beverly’s anger. “You want me to have compassion or pity for my rapist? The reprehensible, vile creature who raped me multiple times? Are you fucking insane?” Her eyes blazed with hatred and she glared at the helpless man. “I wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire! In fact…” the smile on Katya’s face was gruesomely fierce. “I’d add petrol!” 

“Fine!” Beverly spat coldly. “You hate him, I get it, but we were discussing how to avoid you being raped again.”  
“We weren’t discussing anything!” Katya replied derisively. “You were spouting pointless and dangerous platitudes in order to keep control of me, something I can assure you I don’t need.”  
Shaking her head, Beverly gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Ok, have it your own way and when that bastard returns and either rapes you here, in this room, or takes you out to do it, I’ll applaud your sacrifice.”  
“What sacrifice?” Katya asked suspiciously. It made Beverly grin coldly. 

“The sacrifice of giving yourself willing to him! I mean it’s better you than me, right?” She then snapped her fingers. “Oh! But if you allow it, if you do nothing to prevent it, is it still rape?” Beverly was perfectly well aware that her question was an outrageous one. Passivity is not consent; she knew that.   
What Beverly was trying to do was make Katya angry at their captors, rather than Jean-Luc, who seemed to be the sole focus of her angst. Beverly reasoned that if she could redirect that focus, she might be able to sway Katya to agree with taking proactive actions to defend herself. To make her point, Beverly altered her voice to a persuasive tone and spoke to Katya as if she were a coconspirator rather than a hold out. “I mean, we’re not manacled, we could actually create a situation that would bring Twenth in here, and then attack him.”  
A sneer marred Katya’s face. “And what about the children?”

Beverly smiled, a plan slowly taking shape. “We put them in a corner, as far away from the door as we can and then we make sure we’re between them and Twenth.”  
“It won’t work.” Katya dismissed the fledgling idea. “Unless we can guarantee that Twenth comes in alone, we haven’t got a hope of succeeding. Besides,” she gestured around the room. “What can we use as a weapon? You have noticed how big and muscular he is and how there’s nothing here we can use to defend ourselves?”   
“You’ve forgotten your training.” Beverly said dryly. When she said nothing further, Katya rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically. “Ok, I’ll bite. What are you talking about?”  
Beverly shook her head in disbelief. “How long has it been since you left the academy?”  
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Katya replied irritably, then waved her question away. “No, don’t answer that, I get it.” she sighed again. “Two and a half years. But…” she held up one finger. “I was fast tracked. I did the basic training course, but much of the other stuff was given up in order for me to focus on my specialist field, warp dynamics.”  
Beverly’s face screwed up in consternation. “That wasn’t a very good idea though, was it?” She noticed Katya’s confusion and gestured to the room. “Well, I mean here we are, captured and seemingly helpless and you’ve not had the training that would afford you the possibility of escape.”

Katya shrugged. “Look, at the time I was still undecided which field to pursue, warp dynamics, or early childhood development. The brass at the academy knew that and they wanted me to do the warp dynamics. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s been some huge steps forward taken with regards to WDs and since the Dominion war, Starfleet’s been scrambling to rebuild.”   
She shrugged again. “Some bright spark realised that if new ships are being built, rather than old ships being refitted, then it made sense to add the best they could, but at the fastest possible speed. So, people like me were actively recruited to make that possible.” Katya smiled sardonically. “So, yeah, I’m not up to speed with all the techniques in survival and escape stuff, but don’t blame me, blame the academy.”  
Still incredulous that Katya could have passed through the academy so woefully unprepared for their current predicament, Beverly asked, “Then how was it you left wherever you were pursuing your studies in WDs to end up on a starship?” She shook her head. “That’s just asking for trouble.”

At that Katya flushed and lowered her head. “Ah, yes, that.” She lifted her head and offered an embarrassed smile. “That was my doing. I was aware of the Enterprise; I mean who isn’t? But I also knew she had a small number of families aboard. Not like the D, of course, but I knew that scientists and other specialists were permitted to bring their families with them for however long their position was taken.” She sighed ruefully. “And I knew that the ship was the best we had and that the crew was also of the highest standard, and that meant the chief engineer had to be a real hot shot.” Her brow lowered as she took a deep breath. “Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge is well known, Doctor, everyone who does any studies in the warp sciences is aware that nobody knows warp engines like he does, so when the opportunity came for me to be posted, whilst still working on WDs, I jumped at the chance. The bonus for me was, of course, the chance to continue with ECD as well.”  
“And so here we are.” Beverly said fatalistically. “Ok, it’s not a total disaster, I’m very well versed in all the techniques you lack, so I can help and explain, but as for reacting to a situation quickly and making decisions without hesitation,” she sighed and gave Katya a long look. “That I can’t help you with. The methods that are taught at the academy are supposed to be practiced, no matter how long ago your graduation was, and to ensure the methods of survival and escape are kept relevant, you’re required to attend refresher courses where everything is updated and an re assessment is undertaken.” 

The red head’s expression was uncompromising. “And it’s not just for your benefit; it’s for your crewmates as well.” Before Katya could offer any protest, Beverly held up her hand. “Please, don’t take offence. I’m not referring to you personally, Katya, I’m just trying to impress upon you the importance of the training you never received. I fully acknowledge the fault lies with the academy brass, not you, but this very situation is why you should never have gone into space without it.”  
Katya gave a grudging agreement and the two women lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. James, sensing his mother’s pensive mood, looked over at Katya and said quietly, “Katya? Sing?”  
The younger woman gave a sad shake of her head and replied, “I can’t James, my throat is sore.”

The lad digested that, but frowned when he declared, “But you can talk.”  
“Yes, I can talk,” Katya agreed, “But it doesn’t hurt my throat to talk.”  
“Just to sing.” James concluded sadly. Katya hated to see him sad but there was little she could do about it. It was Beverly who decided it would be helpful to talk about singing.  
“You really do have a lovely singing voice, Katya, but I must say I’ve never heard songs like the ones you sang before. Not only was the language completely unfamiliar, but the melody was like nothing I’ve heard before either.”   
Katya’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “You have a good ear, Doctor. The language aside, not many people would pick the unorthodox structure of the melody.”

Beverly knew that any mention of her husband was likely to provoke a negative reaction from the woman, but she was willing to take the risk to get Katya talking about the songs. “That’s largely due to my husband.” she smiled lopsidedly. “He has very broad tastes in music but leans towards earth classical. Over the years he’s introduced me to a large variety of music and taught me the general gist of musical composition and structure.”  
As Beverly knew it would, her comment made Katya’s eyes blaze and her utterly venomous glare at Jean-Luc was totally predictable, however, she refrained from saying anything. Instead she took a large breath and made a concerted effort to calm herself. Beverly appreciated her efforts and smiled in thanks. 

Having regained her calm, Katya managed a small smile.  
“Yes, well, as for the lyrics, I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise the language. It’s a mélange of five vastly different languages, but rather than simply using entire words in each one, the words themselves have been blended.” her smile morphed into a full grin. “Same goes for the melody. It’s a mixture of styles, taken from ancient, modern, tribal and cultural bases.”  
Beverly’s grin was a delighted one. “I think I recall saying your heritage was exotic.” she chuckled. “Am I right in thinking you’ve used all your family heritage influences?”  
“Yes.” Katya said modestly, “But the credit for the songs must go to my parents. They created the style, the lyrics, the music, everything.”  
“Wow.” Beverly said, obviously impressed. “Are they musical? Do they play any instruments?”  
“My dad can play the tsymbaly, his father taught him, and my mum sings in a choir.” Her eyebrows rose as she added, “And dad has a nice voice too. When mum and dad sing together it’s really beautiful.”  
“So how did they come to create their very own musical genre?” Beverly asked with amusement.

Her question made Katya chuckle and roll her eyes. “It was all us kids.” She saw Beverly’s confusion and happily elaborated. “There’s not much age difference between each of my siblings, Doctor. The greatest amount of time is only twenty-two months; most of us are separated by fourteen months…or less. So, mum and dad were sort of inundated with kids.  
“They soon discovered that if one of us started yelling, the others soon followed suit. It made for mayhem.” She sighed deeply, a frown briefly marring her face. “Another thing my parents discovered was that we became quickly bored. If we heard a song that was too familiar, it had little or no effect, so mum and dad began to create nonsense lyrics, you know, really foolish, but funny stuff to entertain the older ones, and their amusement kind of filtered through to the younger ones. Over time my parents began to take the song composition and lyrics more seriously and to keep us guessing, created the new language, and to ensure we would be entertained by the unpredictable melody, created that style as well.”  
“That’s remarkable.” Beverly enthused. “What languages are used?”  
“Oh,” Katya smiled. “Well, there’s Russian, Hutsul, Koori, but mostly just the southern Australian dialects of those, ‘cause that’s what my maternal grandfather knows, and two dialects from northern England. I know one of those was from the north riding of Yorkshire.” 

“And the music the same?”  
“Yes, pretty much. The Koori music was surprisingly complex and, as the Kooris have no written language, all the music is sung and accompanied with instruments like rhythm sticks and didgeridoos. In that way their songs are completely adaptable and can differ from region to region.” Katya grinned and offered a proud lift of her brows. “It’s really clever to have your history depicted in songs and paintings. There’re no strict rules, not stricture of form or composition, so as my parents began to blend everything together, they found that the Koori music was the binding force, the medium that connected the other forms.”  
“So, what were the other forms?”

“As you’d expect, much the same as the lyrics, but more tightly confined by culture and locale. Like the Hutsuls, for example. The Carpathian Mountains have some pretty remote areas, and my grandparent’s village is very isolated, so their versions of language and music are recognizably Hutsul, but still unique in their own way.”  
Hmm,” Beverly hummed in thought. “Interesting. I guess the same could be said of the northern England musical influences too?”  
“Yes,” Katya agreed, but cautiously. “But as there’s a much greater population there and the music is performed for a wider audience, including outside the local area, so the music would be more familiar.”  
“And that’s why your parents made such an effort to disguise it, and the lyrics.” Beverly concluded, making Katya nod enthusiastically.  
“Well, as I said, I think it’s damned remarkable.” Beverly smiled warmly. “And utterly beautiful.”  
“Thanks.” Katya said, blushing. James, who had been listening with increasing irritation, squirmed in Beverly’s arms and made a bored face. “No more talking.” He muttered. “I want to play.”  
Beverly’s eyebrow rose as she gave him a stern look. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Pleath, Maman.” James amended, lisping around his thumb.  
Beverly lifted her hands and presented them to her son. “Finger games?” she asked hopefully. James scowled and shook his head. “No, Maman.” he complained. “I wanna play real games, with toys.”  
Gaining his attention, Beverly gestured to the bare, sterile room. “There are no toys.” she pointed out. James’s face screwed up and he began to wail. “I want toys!” he yelled. “I want…” his look of complete surprise as Beverly clamped her hand over his mouth would’ve been funny in any other situation. “Shh!” Beverly said with suppressed urgency. “You have to be quiet, James.”  
His eyes wide, he nodded, and Beverly removed her hand. “Why?” he whispered fearfully. He’d never had his mother act as she did and by the look on her face, he understood she was upset. Tears welled in his eyes and his lower lip began to quiver. Beverly knew if she didn’t console him quickly, he would begin to cry, and not quietly.  
“It’s ok, James, maman’s not angry.” she said soothingly while she tenderly caressed his face and placed kisses on his brow. “It’s just that this ship belongs to those men who’ve you seen, and they don’t like too much noise. So, it’s best if we all try really hard to stay as quiet as we can.”

James sniffed and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. He nodded, but Beverly could see he was still upset and frightened. She was about to say more when Elly began to wail. Katya immediately placed the baby against her chest and hummed, trying to calm her but it didn’t work. Elly’s crying became louder, making James shout at full volume, “Elly, no! We have to be quiet!”  
Beverly got to her feet, scooping James up into her arms. Katya had laid Elly down and was taking her nappy off. Beverly saw the soiled nappy and grimaced, knowing she was going to have to summon one of their captors. She debated simply cleaning Elly as best she could, then leaving her naked, but she feared the captors’ reaction if Elly soiled the deck, and she knew her little daughter was hungry as well.   
Placing James on the floor with Elly, Beverly turned, intending to go to the door and knock to gain attention, but she’d only taken two steps when it opened. She froze as Lannit came in, his expression cold and his eyes darker and glittering dangerously.  
He stood for some long, tense moments, his gaze settling on all the occupants in turn. James had risen to stand behind his mother, his arms wrapped around her leg.  
Lannit smiled, but it was a profoundly unsettling expression. He walked over to Beverly and went down on one knee. He aimed his conversation at James, but he was speaking to the women. “Once again my rest has been disturbed.” His tone was decidedly menacing. “I believe I’ve already warned you about this … about what will happen if my rest is disturbed?”

Her heart racing and her stomach soured, Beverly closed her eyes and said very softly, “I’m so sorry, what has happened was a terrible mistake. My daughter needs to be changed and fed and my son is becoming restless. He’s only 22 months old and it’s awfully hard for him to understand…”  
Lannit rose in one fluid motion and grabbed Beverly around the throat. “Stop talking.” he said with deceptive softness as he squeezed hard enough to make Beverly struggle to breathe. “Shut your mouth, I don’t wish to hear another word.”  
He then looked down at James and said quietly, “I don’t want to hear any more noise from you, boy. If you disturb me again, I will hurt your mother. Do you understand?”  
Tears were streaming down James’s face as he nodded, but he voided his bladder in terror. He was sucking his thumb furiously as he looked down at the growing puddle, then up at the frightening male. He hiccupped a sob and hugged his mother’s leg tightly. Beverly hadn’t seen what had happened, but she could smell the urine. She gave Lannit a pleading look and he released her, a look of disgust on his face.  
“You will clean this revolting mess.” he said coldly. “Then each of you will be taken to the sanitary unit, and then you can tend to the infant.”

He turned abruptly but paused and turned back at the open door. “Just remember, do not disturb me again. My partner has sexual tastes that involve children,” Lannit’s eyes glittered hungrily. “especially little boys, and I like to watch.”  
Beverly’s stomach rebelled and she vomited but managed to keep it in her mouth. Once their tormentor had gone, she swallowed the acrid matter, then spent several minutes regaining control as she tried to comfort her terrified son.  
They weren’t prepared when Lannit entered the room again and Beverly was panicked when she thought he’d changed his mind and had come for James, but she saw he was carrying cleaning item. He dropped them on the deck then gestured to Beverly. “You will come first … and bring the boy.”

Utterly terrified that something dreadful was about to happen to them, Beverly’s fear was eased a little as they were shown to a sanitary unit. As she went inside, Lannit warned, “Make sure everything is expelled. You won’t get another opportunity for some time.”  
Beverly nodded, then asked quietly, “May I explain that to my son, please?”

Lannit nodded, his cold, threatening expression a constant reminder of how perilous their situation was. Beverly, who was carrying James, set him on his feet and knelt beside him. “We’re going to use the toilet now, James.”  
He began to cry again, but softly. Beverly understood he was very frightened and confused and he felt bad about urinating on the floor. He’d become continent at the age of 17 months and he was immensely proud of that. “It’s all right,” Beverly said softly. “Sometimes we get so scared our bodies forget to tell us we need to go to the toilet.” She gave him a tender kiss. “It’s ok, James, it was just a mistake, that’s all.”  
He looked at his mother and slipped his thumb into his mouth. He sniffed and nodded. “Good.” Beverly smiled. “Now, James, we’ve been asked to make sure that when we go to the toilet, we do everything we have to do. That means any wee you might have left, and any poop. Now if you don’t think you have anything to do, that’s fine, and you won’t get into trouble. Ok?” 

He nodded again and remained passive as Beverly picked him up and placed him on the unit. It was larger than the ones he was accustomed to using and Beverly had to hold him, but he did what was asked of him. Beverly was enormously proud of her son and gave him a cuddle, but the moment was broken as Lannit said snidely, “How touching, but you’re wasting time.”  
Spurred into action, Beverly sat on the unit, keeping James in her arms. She was angry that the door was left open and Lannit’s leering smile further upset her, but she managed to successfully hide her feelings. Once she had carried out her tasks, she was permitted to return to the rear of the shuttle to join the others. Katya wasn’t gone long, but when Lannit released Jean-Luc from his manacles and dragged him from the room, Beverly wept quietly for her husband, wondering how on earth their captor was going to get the man to void his bladder and bowel while semi-conscious. 

And she was disgusted with herself as a part of her didn’t want to think about it. She was aware that this was a reaction to trauma, that her mind was trying to protect itself from further psychological damage by shutting out the associated memories yet knowing that and experiencing it were two very distinct things.  
Instead of dwelling on the upsetting thoughts she devoted herself to her children. Beverly was feeding the freshly changed Elly and Katya was playing a word game with James, but she was having trouble getting him to take part. He was very withdrawn and eerily silent. Once Elly had been fed, Beverly burped her then gave her to Katya. Holding out her arms, she invited James onto her lap. He went willingly and wrapped his arms and legs around her torso. He cried silently and sucked his thumb until he fell into a restless sleep. Beverly feared for him. 

Will was a gregarious, happy man; his default expression was a smile; however, he was perfectly able to hide his natural character and appear and act in any way a given situation required. He’d been reserved with Frinna and Corx, but the moment he entered Corx’s uncle’s home he knew immediately he would like the male.  
As the introductions were made, Will’s face split into a grin when the uncle quipped, “Some night callers? Well,” he chuckled warmly. “sleep is overrated anyway and I’m so old I need to make use of the time I have left, regardless.”   
“I’m sorry to disturb you so late.” Will apologised. Corx smiled his forgiveness then suggested the guests sit but the elderly male insisted on fussing about in his kitchen and eventually emerged with some hot drinks. Will knew by how weak the brew was that the man had little with which to make the drinks. It made Will happy to hand over the field rations, especially as there were coffee and tea sachets included.  
The old uncle gasped, and tears came to his eyes. Will stood and ushered the man to a seat. Once the uncle regained himself, he turned his attention to his nephew, his face showing expectation of an explanation.  
“Uncle Ryac,” supplied Corx, “this human, Will,” he gestured to the commander, “has come in search of his friends. They were staying at the resort Frinna worked at.”  
Ryac nodded thoughtfully. “A family?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes!” Will blurted, and then held up his hand. “Sorry.” he said to all and gestured to Ryac to continue. The old male smiled his acceptance.  
“When I was at the founders’ complex there was a human family there. I only ever saw the male, and only once and very briefly, but I know there were two females there and two children.”  
Will sat forward in his seat, eager to learn more. The old man sighed and shook his head. “There were bad things going on at that complex, it was the reason I, and others left.” he looked at Will, his eyes brimming with tears. “We began to realise what the founders and their religion were doing to us … to our people, but when it was discovered what was going on at that complex,” the male shrugged helplessly.   
“It was the beginning of the end for me. I went to another complex, but even though it seemed to be devoted to nothing other than Kerron, I’d lost heart and I couldn’t recapture the faith … or the zeal that I’d felt before.” He wiped at his eyes and his shoulders sagged. 

“I’ve felt disconnected ever since, my only solace being my fractured and scattered family. If not for Corx, and Frinna,” he smiled sadly to include her, “I think I may have ended my own life, something I know others have done or a contemplating doing.”  
Will frowned deeply, having not realised just how severely affected the survivors of the cult were. He made a mental note to contact Deanna as soon as he could to let her know that, should the Federation become involved in assisting the population, that counselors were going to be required in large numbers. A terrible, tragic disaster was looming for Haven and Will was now even more desperate to find his friends.  
Will left his seat and went to the old man, going down on one knee before him. “What you’ve just told me is terrible, Ryac, and I’m so sorry my presence here provoked such horrible memories, but please, please,” he repeated pleadingly, “can you tell me anything more about my friends?”

The old male nodded and straightened in his chair. “Yes. There is … or was a Havenite doctor there, his name is Ehanne Hu. I know that he was compelled to administer drugs to the adults and if my information is correct, and I’ve no reason to doubt it, the drugs were intended to facilitate breeding.” His expression clouded in anger.   
“I’ve also been told that none of those who took part … that is those forced to have sexual relations, were willing, and as I understand it, the females were … damaged as a result.”  
“Damaged?” Will repeated angrily. Ryac nodded. “Physically damaged, but I’d suggest psychologically damaged as well.”  
It took a few moments for Will to get his towering anger into manageable proportions. He knew about all this, but to know just how brutal it had been made him feel helpless and that was something he simply couldn’t tolerate.  
“Have you any idea if the family is still at the founders’ complex?” Will asked, keeping his tone mild. Ryac gave a cautious nod, wary of Will’s anger.  
“Perhaps.” He said quietly, and then waited while Will calmed down from his predictable upset Once that was achieved, Ryac continued. “There is a rumour circulating that the founders have left Haven and it was backed up by the discovery of four bodies at the local airport.”

Will gasped, immediately thinking the four bodies were those of his friends, but Ryac was quick to settle those fears. “The bodies were the airport staff, Will. They’d all been sexually assaulted, sexually mutilated and brutally murdered.” His expression hardened. “And the only missing craft was the founders’ shuttle, a moderately large vessel which was, of course, space worthy.”  
“I see.” Will said. “And what of the family?”  
The old man sat forward and said quietly, “A source has told me that he saw the family leave the complex with the founders. They never returned, Will, none of them returned.”   
The old man sat back and shrugged. “Now I know that all I’ve said is mostly hearsay and circumstantial, but that’s all I know.” He gave Will a look of sympathy. “I’m sorry I can’t provide more solid evidence to substantiate what I’ve told you.”  
Will found a warm, genuine smile. “Don’t apologise, Ryac, I have much more to work with now than I did when I arrived.”  
“What will you do now?” asked Corx.

Will stood and gave the watching Havenites a determined look. “I’ve got something tangible work on now. I’ll try and verify what Ryac’s told me, but I feel I’ll be contacting some nearby friends who will assist me in continuing my search.”  
“Your ship?” Ryac said quietly. “The big one in orbit?”  
Will didn’t show his surprise, but Ryac gave a sly smile. “Word travels fast here, Will. We Havenites who’ve separated ourselves from the religion have been waiting … hoping … that the Federation would intervene in what’s happening here. News of your ship’s arrival spread quickly, as did the disappointment when we found that it wasn’t here to help.”  
There was a slight accusatory tone to those last words, making Will feel guilty. He knew he had to explain. “Technically the Federation can’t act unless requested to do so by the planetary government, and no such request has yet been made.”  
He held up a hand to forestall the angry comments he knew were coming. “Yes, we know your governing body is barely functioning and because of that the situation here is being carefully monitored. Rest assured, if it deteriorates, the Federation will intervene.”

“And how many will die in the meantime, Will? Haven needs Federation help now.” Corx’s voice was laced with acrimony.  
Will sighed and rubbed his face in anger and frustration. He agreed with the young man, but such decisions were out of his hands. “It’s against the charter; a charter signed by all Federation worlds. To interfere when there exists a remote chance a bad situation may be resolved domestically could cause more trouble than such an action hoped to fix.” He shook his head and gestured with his hands to give his words form. “Look, let’s say the Federation intervened here without being asked to and restored order. So, everything seems fine, but later, maybe years later, some Havenites begin to think that the Federation has used strong arm tactics, that we used force to bend Haven to our will. Remember, your government didn’t request it. Now don’t you think that might cause unrest?”

Corx sneered, his tone disbelieving and derisive. “Havenites wouldn’t do that. We’re a stable, sensible, peaceful people.”  
“Like they are now?” Will asked, trying not to sound sarcastic or smug. Corx gaped and shook his head. “No!” he protested. “That was because the founders…”  
Frinna laid her hand on her lover’s forearm. “Corx, they were outsiders who came and all but destroyed us and their only weapon was a religion. It happened so quickly…”  
Corx sat back and slumped, defeated by the terrible truth. Will felt sorry for the young man and sought to ease his pain. “The Federation won’t sit idly by and watch your people destroy themselves, Corx. If it gets too bad, they will intervene.”  
Corx nodded and Will gave each occupant a tired smile. “I have to go now. I’ll make sure there’s a large supply of field rations at the resort, and should you want more, ask your interstellar traffic officer to contact my ship.”  
“Which is?” Ryac asked, his curiosity genuine. Will smiled his reply. “The Enterprise.”

Ryac’s thin eyebrows rose. “I’ve heard of that ship!”  
Will nodded and said kindly, “Thank you for your help,” he looked at all the Havenites. “It’s been invaluable.”  
He fished his communicator out of his trousers pocket and requested a beam out. He vanished in a sparkle of bright blue light.

Jean-Luc was only barely aware of being dragged from the room that held the others. Somewhere deep in his mind he tried to prepare himself for more abuse, but since his failed attempt to end his own life, he knew he’d never be able to achieve that. Somehow a part of his psyche had accepted that what was happening to him was now the norm and it’d best and easiest, both psychologically and physically if he simply acquiesced.  
There was a spark of defiance, of resilience inside him, but it was hidden, for now overwhelmed by the other, more practical mental methods of self-preservation.  
When he was hoisted upright then dumped carelessly on the toilet seat, he was momentarily confused, but when the now familiar and hated voice growled in his ear, he could only sigh.  
“You are to void your bodily waste, Picard.”

It seemed like such a reasonable and innocuous demand, to be told to do something that was an every-day part of being human, and vital for his continued existence, but as he sat, in pain, slumped and bewildered, being propped up by a cruel, uncaring being; Jean-Luc couldn’t help but find humour in the situation. 

It was so bizarre, yet so insidiously dangerous that hysteria quickly built up in the suffering man and burst out of him in as series ragged giggles and barely contained blurts of laughter. He didn’t even feel the pain of his injuries.  
He turned his manic gaze on his captor and grinned like a fool. “You rape me,” his ragged, husky voice was broken by another fit of giggles, “you beat me,” tears now streamed down Jean-Luc’s face, “and now you want to watch me empty my bowel and my bladder?” his laughter was becoming more and more hysterical. “You sick fucks!” he managed to shout, while laughing. “Is there no limit to your cruelty?” As his giggles continued, tears flowed contrapuntally down his haggard, pale face.  
Lannit stared coldly at his captive and then smiled with cold delight. How often he’d witnessed this kind of breakdown in his victims. He shook his head in wonderment and sighed wistfully, his memories making his cock begin to swell.   
The cruel being had to admire his victim on this occasion though. Yes, he’d probably lost his mind, but there was no hint of distasteful and contemptible pleading, of any semblance of wheedling, of begging for his life.  
Lannit gave a moments’ thought to dragging his victim’s wife, or children, or all three into the sanitary unit’s anteroom to threaten them, or perhaps to rape and torture them just to see if Picard would regain his mind, to see if his profound love for his wife and children could overcome his mental breakdown, but ultimately his ruminations lost their appeal. 

He had ordered his victim to perform two tasks and perform them or they would suffer the consequences. The only downside, as Lannit saw it, was that now that his victim seemed to be psychologically broken, it wouldn’t be so satisfying to play his games with him.   
He stared down and the still giggling human and sneered before yelling, “Twenth! Come here!”  
Twenth’s reply only served to push Lannit’s anger into fury. “I don’t want to move, Lannit.” Twenth said slowly, pain lacing his voice. “You really hurt me this time...”  
Knowing what any hesitation to respond would frighten his partner, Lannit waited patiently, a grin beginning to spread across his face. He saw Twenth in his mind’s eye, curled up on their bed, his hands gently supporting his damaged cock, while blood and semen oozed from his vagina. Lannit’s cock stiffened to full readiness and he decided to reply. Lannit replied casually, “If you don’t come to me immediately, I will introduce you to a new level of pain, Twenth, one you didn’t know existed.”  
Lannit controlled his facial expressions as Twenth stumbled into the anteroom, still holding his cock, but Lannit’s eyes showed his obviously smug triumph. When Twenth saw Jean-Luc sitting on the toilet, his body still shuddering as giggles wracked him, he sent his partner a look of confusion.

Lannit gave Twenth a look that clearly told Twenth he saw him as stupid. Despite his pain, anger once more spiked in Twenth. Lannit had just belittled him again, and this time in front of their captive plaything. He momentarily forgot himself and glowered at his partner, taking a step forward and raising one fist.   
Surprise flittered in Lannit’s eyes before pleasure took over. He spoke in a conversational tone, but Twenth knew his life was suddenly in the balance. “If you even attempt to complete that thought, Twenth...” Lannit smiled then said. “Just before you die you will know two things. One is that true pain, true, unspeakable agony, can only be inflicted by those who know you best, and two, your death will be meaningless.”  
Defeated and humiliated, Twenth lowered his fist, then, reluctantly, his gaze. Lannit had just crossed a line Twenth had barely recognised even existed. Their relationship had now undergone a fundamental change. Whether or not Lannit knew that, or even cared, was moot as far as Twenth was concerned. 

In a sudden and, to Twenth, shocking decision, Twenth determined that once they’d been paid for their captives, he would leave Lannit. It was breathtakingly naive of Twenth to even imagine that Lannit was unaware of the shift that had taken place, and to not realise that Lannit would never allow Twenth to leave him of his own volition, and as for the latinum? Lannit had long ago decided that Twenth would never see so much as one bar.   
In Lannit’s mind Twenth ceased to be a partner and now occupied very little space in his thoughts. Other than to perform as Lannit ordered, Twenth was little more than a fellow captive like Picard and the others. Lannit grinned to himself, knowing his new victim probably had no idea. His underestimation would prove to be very foolish ... and dangerous.  
Lannit quickly cast aside his tantalising thoughts and shook his head. “Unless you want to have the odour of his bowel movements wafting through the ship, I suggest you help to encourage him to do as he’s been told.”  
Finally understanding what was happening; Twenth gave a curt nod, but then frowned and asked, “Why is he behaving like that?” he gestured with one hand as he steadied Jean-Luc on the side opposite Lannit. “Has he become insane?”  
Lannit’s grin was pure evil. “I think so, but there’s always a chance he’s trying to deceive us, but you’d know that if you didn’t kill your victims so quickly.” Lannit’s tone was mocking. “I’ve told you that often enough.” he nodded to Jean-Luc. “If you play with them long enough, more often than not they descend into this kind of behaviour.”

Glaring with barely disguised contempt, Twenth muttered sarcastically, “Then why are you suggesting he may be different?”  
Yet again adopting smug superiority and revelling in another opportunity to humiliate Twenth, Lannit spoke as if speaking to a child, or a dullard. “Because he’s a Starfleet officer, a captain no less, who’s been trained in resistance techniques.”  
Lannit held Twenth’s angry glare until he dropped his eyes. That brought a satisfied smile to Lannit’s face, and then he let the moment pass. “Watch and learn.” he remarked. Twenth all but sneered, but nevertheless nodded.   
“Picard!” Lannit growled close to Jean-Luc’s ear. “Empty your bladder and bowel or be prepared to suffer the consequences of your disobedience!”  
Having mostly subsided from his hysteria, Jean-Luc managed to lift his gaze and frown, his eyes vacant. “Will it be different to the normal suffering?” he asked with genuine innocence. Instantly enraged, Lannit smashed his fist into Jean-Luc’s face, then drove the same fist into his stomach. The hands that gripped his shoulders so tightly prevented him from pitching forward, allowing Lannit to drive his hand down between Jean-Luc’s thighs to grip his testicles. He grinned in cruel, aroused delight as he squeezed with all his formidable strength. Jean-Luc screamed twice and almost passed out, but before consciousness fled, Lannit released his grip.

The rebounding pain differed from the initial agony, but it was enough to restore him to consciousness. For five seemingly unending minutes Lannit continued with this unspeakable torture before he growled in the sobbing man’s ear, “Had enough?”  
He then protruded his tongue and pushed it deeply into Jean-Luc’s ear, then the abrupt and unwanted sensation so different it made Jean-Luc gasp. Lannit removed his tongue and murmured seductively, “Will you obey now?”  
Jean-Luc was going to nod, but Lannit shoved his tongue back into his ear. With an almost non-existent voice, Jean-Luc whispered pitifully, “Yes.”  
Twenth, who had witnessed all with a growing erection, despite it causing him more pain in the damaged organ, punched the suffering man in the kidney. He waited until Jean-Luc’s guttural howls of agony ebbed before he said quietly, “What have I told you about showing proper respect?”

Sobbing raggedly, Jean-Luc struggled to understand what Twenth meant. It was another brutal squeeze of his testicles that brought his infraction to clarity in his tortured mind. “Yes,” he whispered again. “Yes, I’ll obey, Eman.” He looked up at Lannit with blood red, streaming eyes. “Yes, I’ll obey, Lannit Yan.”  
“Good.” Lannit crooned. “We’ll help you by holding you up, but you’ve already taken far too much of our valuable time.” His voice became cold and distinctly threatening. “So, don’t take too long.”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, but his pain was too severe. He was about to beg for understanding when Twenth made his hand into a stiff blade and shoved his rigid fingers deeply into Jean-Luc’s lower belly. The poor man groaned loudly and retched, but a spray of urine jetted from his cock. Lannit remarked noncommittally, “Just relax, Picard. It’s like accepting a cock inside your body the first few times.” He then chuckled, “Only in reverse.”  
Twenth laughed despite his lingering anger at his partner. Jean-Luc did his best to block out the cruel taunts, but he did take the advice. He made a concerted effort to relax and eventually his urine began to flow, and to his heartfelt relief, he also emptied his bowel, although it caused him terrible agony.

After ensuring he had cleaned himself properly, the aliens then unceremoniously hauled Jean-Luc off the toilet and dragged him back to join the others where he was re-tethered to the wall.  
They left, Lannit’s gaze hungry as he noted Twenth’s erection. His own hadn’t subsided and he knew with certainty that Twenth was going to endure more very painful sex before long.  
Beverly’s eyes were fixed on her husband. She saw the new injuries, the bruises and swellings that told their own story, and, seeing his dazed and vacant state, assumed he hadn’t yet emerged from his mental retreat, but she was wrong.   
Inside his tortured body and his battered mind, the tiny spark of defiance and resilience was growing. Rather than exacerbate his capitulation, his latest assaults had given him the determination to resist. It wouldn’t be all that long before the spark became a flame, and then that flame, a blaze.

It had taken all of one day and well into the following night before Will was able to partially verify most of what Ryac had told him. With Deanna by his side, to help him to stay calm as well as carry out some detective work of her own, Will managed to get in touch with some of the officers involved in the murders at the airport.  
The current situation on the planet had stretched the law enforcement resources to breaking point. Law enforcement wasn’t a high priority in Havenite society, due to the fact the planet enjoyed an exceptionally low crime rate, indeed, there wasn’t even an actual department devoted to murder, let alone sexually motivated mutilation murders, so these combined factors conspired to make Will’s search for information frustrating and slow. It had required patience he didn’t know he had, and he happily admitted still wouldn’t know if not for Deanna’s steady presence.

Over long hours in the ready room, the couple had managed, through perseverance and some offers of large amounts of emergency supplies, to find the officers who were responsible for investigating the crimes. That, however, was only the start. Having discovered the name of the team leader, Will and Deanna then had to locate the officer, then find a way to contact her.  
Hours passed in one tight, frustrating conversation after another as they continued doggedly. Finally, in the early hours of the ship’s morning, they found the officer. Will held up both hands, crossing his fingers.   
Deanna smiled her encouragement, but it was a tired expression,and not very convincing. It was the first time she’d shown just how exhausted she was. It was then that Will realised that she had been the acting captain in his absence and probably had no sleep. That made both of them. 

There was a loud bang, followed by a stream of Havenite profanity as the audio channel opened. Will blinked, somewhat taken aback by the situation. He cleared his throat and asked experimentally, “Is everything all right?”  
The obscene tirade subsided into grumbled curses. After a moment or two, an annoyed and impatient voice spoke, “No! Everything’s not all right!” Before Will could reply, the voice continued with, “And if you took the time to look out a window, you wouldn’t have to ask such a stupid question!”

Will’s expression soured, but Deanna sent him a look that clearly said, ‘Patience, Will, patience.’  
He nodded his acknowledgement then looked up as he asked, “Two whom am I speaking?”

“Another stupid question!” the disembodied voice spat. “You asked for me by name, didn’t you?”  
A protest was forming on Will’s lips. He was going to point out that as she hadn’t identified herself, he had absolutely no way to know if he was speaking to the right person or not. However, he didn’t want to antagonise her further, so he took a leaf out of his captain’s book and altered his tone. “I’m very sorry, Investigator Vurenn, I should’ve realised I was speaking to you.”

There was a huff, but when the female spoke again, her tone was better. “Yes, fine.” she muttered gruffly. “So, why have you contacted me?”  
“It’s to do with the murders you’re investigating.” Will said confidently, but she cut him off. “Which ones?” she said caustically. “We’ve had more murders in the last 14 months than Haven has experienced in the last eighty years.”  
Shock and realisation skittered across Will’s face as he scrambled to regain his train of thought. “Oh.” he said lamely, then tried again. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know.” He hurried on before she could interrupt again. “I refer to the murders at the airport.”  
Will and Deanna heard what sounded like PADD being pushed around on a desk. That was verified when they heard the distinct noise of PADD’s activation. “That would be case #27, Daris Aerodrome. Yes, what of it?” her voice had taken on a suspicious note. “What’s your interest in the case?” Her next query was stone cold. “And for that matter, who are you?”

Will’s cheeks puffed as he blew out an annoyed breath. This wasn’t going as he’d hoped, and it was his fault. He should’ve introduced himself at the outset, establishing his bona fides and making it clear he would use his resources to assist if he could. Instead, all he’d done was put the officer in charge offside.  
“Again, my sincere apologies, Investigator. I am acting captain William Riker and I’m aboard my ship, the Enterprise, which is...”  
Vurenn sounded bored when she interrupted, but both listeners heard the hint of relief as she muttered, “The ship in orbit.”  
“Yes.” Will said carefully. “So, you know why I’ve contacted you?”

They all but saw the shrug when she replied, “No, not really, but I have heard you’ve done some good things with field rations and emergency supplies.”  
It was as close to a request for the same as Will had ever heard without actually asking. He grinned and sent Deanna a wink. “I’d be more than happy to supply whatever you deem appropriate.” Will said affably.   
There followed a longish silence before Vurenn sighed and allowed some warmth into her voice. “Thank you, Captain, that would be tremendously helpful.”  
Will told her he would transfer her call to the appropriate supplies officer on the conclusion of their talk when she could outline what she needed. She agreed, then asked, “All right, so your interest in the case?”  
Will’s eyes locked with Deanna as he embarked on his explanation. When he’d finished, he frowned deeply at what he heard. “I’ll be damned.” Vurenn said, angry and shocked at the same time. “It would seem that you just provided the link we’ve been looking for.”

“A link to what?” the acting captain asked cautiously.  
“A link to a series of other murders.” Vurenn sighed. She went on to explain, “Look, with all that’s been happening here on Haven these last few years, it’s not really all that surprising that there would be some murders. These are unprecedented times, Captain, the insidious erosion of our society, then the sudden plunge into civil unrest, has caused many people to lose what we would normally take for granted.” She sighed deeply.  
“Things like ethical behaviour, respect and restraint deserted so many of our fellow Havenites, and when you add religious fervour into the mix ... well, it’s a recipe for disaster.”  
Will said nothing, allowing the officer to continue. “But even given the extraordinary circumstances we face as a society, there has been some crimes committed that defy logic. And of those crimes by far the worst has been sexually motivated murder.”  
A cold spike of dread slithered through Will’s gut. Deanna sensed his emotions and couldn’t stop the shudder that passed through her as well.  
“Investigator Vurenn,” Will asked quietly, “Can you transmit visually?”  
“Yes, would you like me to uplink?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”   
Will looked at the monitor screen on the desktop and summoned a smile when Vurenn’s face appeared. She was plain looking and had a harried appearance, no doubt due to overworking. Her short, honey blond hair needed washing and her eyes had dark shadows underneath, giving her a haunted look. “Understandable.” Will thought glumly, “given that she’s investigating grisly murders on a daily basis.”  
The big man clasped his hands on the desktop and gave the female his undivided attention. “How many sexually motivated murders are you talking about?” He asked quietly.  
This time they saw the investigator shrug. “So far it looks like eleven, but my sources tell me that, unfortunately, there may well be several more and that’s not including case #27.”  
“I see.” Will replied. “And the link you mentioned?”

Vurenn’s face darkened in anger. “The first of these poor, mutilated and defiled corpses turned up not long after the founders arrived to stay. They’d been here before, several times in fact, but that was to sow the damned seeds of their religion, you know, establish infrastructure, interview prospective underlings, those sorts of things. However, after the first corpse was discovered, within two months, we had two more.”   
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not one to jump to conclusions, Captain. Rumours quickly spread that what was happening had a ritualistic flavour,” she rolled her hand as she clarified, “Such as some kind of a monthly religious sacrifice.” Her disgust was clear as she shook her head. “I don’t know if the new religion caused our usually steady and sane people to suggest something so ludicrous, but I had to admit, we’d never seen anything like those murders before and the founders and their religion were the only new factors in our societal structure.”

Vurenn glanced to one side, listened to someone talking softly, then nodded. She turned her attention back to Will. “Sorry, Captain, I’ll have to go soon.”  
He simply nodded. Vurenn gave an apologetic smile and continued. “The thing is, as the body count went up, I’m talking about the sexually mutilated ones, so more and more rumours started to circulate about what was going on in the complexes. We raided a few, just to see, you know ... but never found anything incriminating. But...” she held up her forefinger. “I found out only recently that the founders knew when a raid was going to take place, especially at their main complex, the one they frequented almost exclusively.”

“Their grapevine?” Will asked wryly.  
“Yes, their damned grapevine.” Vurenn grumbled, then smiled dryly. “Great when it works in your favour, not so much when it works against you.”  
Will’s smile was sympathetic. “Anyway,” the investigator continued, “We slowly began to put two and two together and were almost ready to bring the founders in for questioning, but things went very bad, very quickly and in the chaos those two bastards managed to slip away.”

“And that brings us to case #27.” Will sighed.   
“Yes.” Vurenn nodded. “It was obvious that the same killer or killers were responsible for the murders at the aerodrome, but until you told me the founders had taken your friends, and that they were at the aerodrome at the time of the murders, that the pieces fell into place.”  
“How?” Will asked, now intensely interested.   
Vurenn smiled in a predatory way. “Because I can now place Twenth and Lannit Yan at the scene. That was the one thing I’ve not been able to do at any of the other scenes.”  
“You had no forensic evidence?” Will asked incredulously.  
“No, none.” Vurenn’s anger and sadness were clear as she said, “Those two aliens are well-practiced in their post-mortem activities, Captain, and because of their expertise I have to acknowledge they’ve probably been indulging in their perverted pleasure for a long time, here and elsewhere.” 

She shook her head and briefly closed her eyes. “Each and every corpse had been thoroughly covered in a liquid that removed all biological traces ... and it was inside all of the body cavities too, they were very diligent in ensuring they left no traces of themselves anywhere on ... or in their victims’ bodies.”  
Will summed it up. “So, although you felt you had them in your sights as the murderers, until I gave you my information about the abductions, you couldn’t place them at any of the murder scenes.”  
“Correct.”  
Will sat back and ran his hands through his short, dark hair. “I’ve been told they’ve left Haven.”   
Vurenn nodded. “Yes, I can verify that is true.”  
“Destination?” Will asked hopefully.   
That brought a wry chuckle. “No such luck.” Vurenn said, shaking her head. “They left the atmosphere, ignored the resulting enquiries and shot off at warp.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Seems everyone wants to be a smart arse when it comes to the speed restrictions within our system.”

Will held up his hands in surrender and smiled. “I’ve already apologised, Investigator.”  
Vurenn gave a short laugh, then quickly sobered. “I really must go now, Captain.”  
“I understand and thank you for your time and your help.” Will nodded and transferred her to the officer in charge of ship’s stores. He then turned to Deanna. “What do you think?”  
She held his gaze for a few long seconds, then said quietly, “I think the Picards and ensign Kurnov are in far more danger than we thought.”  
“And we already thought the danger was immense.” Will agreed. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair again. “Vurenn said they warped out of the system. That should give us an ion trail to follow.” He rose from his chair and was about to exit the ready room until Deanna stopped him. 

“By all means, order the crew to pick up the ion trail and begin to follow it, but once you’ve issued the orders, go to your quarters. You need to get some sleep, Will.”  
He looked down at the petite woman and gave her a tender smile. “So do you, Deanna.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Join me in my quarters; we always sleep better when we’re together.”  
Deanna knew he’d not intended any sexual undertone to his invitation, but she shrugged inwardly as she acknowledged that if they did have sex, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Tired as they were, it would still make their sleep afterwards even more restful. She went up on tip toes and kissed his lips. “I’ll see you there.” She whispered and then left. Will followed and issued the necessary orders, then went to his quarters. Much later they fell into a very restful sleep.

Apart from one visit from Lannit and Twenth where they took the time to perform some perfunctory healing of Jean-Luc’s recent injuries and then bring in quantity of dried food, bottled water and the things necessary to feed and change Elly multiple times, the captives were left alone for a long time.   
However, Twenth had loosened Jean-Luc’s manacles so that Lannit could remove the dried blood that had gathered there. Twenth didn’t remember to re-tighten the manacles after the task had been performed and Lannit didn’t notice the lapse. Jean-Luc did though. He didn’t react, choosing to bide his time. 

Beverly fell into a kind of daze, almost stupefied with boredom. James had become so withdrawn he barely spoke and seemed to want to do nothing but sit with his mother while sucking his thumb. Even Elly was quiet.   
Katya slept a lot, something Beverly envied, but couldn’t even try to emulate as she had to watch over her children. Katya did help a little in that regard, but like everyone else in the room; she had descended into a semi-stupor as well.   
It was with deep worry and sadness that Beverly noticed that James wouldn’t look at his father. She’d tried to talk to James about his father’s condition so that the boy might be willing to go to the man and talk to him. She felt it might help her husband tremendously to simply hear his son’s voice, but James refused to go anywhere near his father. Beverly wondered if it was fear, or something else, something more unsettling.

“Is it possible,” she thought silently, “that he’s picked up on the things Katya’s said about Jean-Luc? The things Katya and I have said to each other about him?” Sadness filled Beverly’s heart as she realised that may well be the case. James most likely didn’t understand the actual problems that were being discussed, but he’d know and correctly identify the underlying anger and tension. Once he made that connection to his father and then to his father’s injuries, indeed, the cruel way the captors were treating him too, his condition took on a very sinister meaning. 

If James now thought his father had done something very bad, then he may think the man deserved what happens to him. That he is being punished.  
It was a brutal but understandable way of thinking, but as was often the case, young children thought in black-and-white terms. Beverly sighed as she tried to think of a way to talk to James about it without further damaging his relationship with his father. Ultimately, she sidelined those thoughts, choosing instead to try and stay awake. Two hours later everyone in the room was asleep, except Jean-Luc. 

Once he was certain everyone was asleep, he began to extricate his hands. It hurt and his skin was torn in the process, but after twenty long minutes he was free. He then slowly dragged himself over to where the empty water bottles and food pouches had been put. After examining the rubbish, he selected three of the pliable, synthetic bottles before making his painful way back to his tether. He wondered idly if the bottles would be missed, but he didn’t really care.   
He’d reached a point where he’d become very bloody minded. He needed to get his family, Katya, and himself away from the monstrous beings that held them captive but if he died in the attempt, that was fine by him. As long as he secured the freedom of the others, it’d be worth it.

Apart from the obvious pitfalls of his fledgling plan, too many in fact to dwell on, one stood out above all the rest. If this one aspect of his plan failed, the rest would be impossible. It concerned the bottles, but more specifically what they were made of. If they were made of the latest version of the material, his plan was doomed.   
However, if they were an older version of the bottle he might just be in luck. The only way to find out was to test some of the material. He began to gnaw at one of the bottles, the tough material not tearing easily, but once he’d managed to separate a piece from the rest, he squinted down at his torso, looking for an open wound. Lannit had healed the worst of his wounds, but there were still some that were weeping serum and blood. It was blood he was looking for and, having selected a likely injury, gritted his teeth as he worked with his fingers to make it bleed. 

With blood rising freely from the wound, Jean-Luc placed the synthetic scrap in his blood and began to count. When he’d counted off four and a half minutes, he lifted the scrap out of the gore and blew on it to dry it as quickly as possible.   
The grin that spread over his face caused many injuries to his lips, mouth, and nose to begin to bleed, but he didn’t feel them, nor did he care. The scrap had become rigid, sharp-edged, and very hard.  
It was discovered only a few years ago that the synthetic material used to make the bottles for emergency personal water supplies underwent a chemical reaction when exposed to certain species’ blood. Happily, humans were one of those species. Jean-Luc couldn’t readily recall the exact details of how this was discovered, but he did know that some space travellers had managed to survive, against the odds, because of it.  
As with so many things, progress and innovation had made the old version of the bottles redundant, but obviously their captors hadn’t updated their ship’s inventory in some time. Jean-Luc’s expression darkened as he reasoned their sloppiness was due to their preoccupation with their nefarious activities on Haven.

Ship’s stores would’ve been the last thing on their minds. Still, their lax ship’s maintenance was good fortune for the captives. Jean-Luc found certain elegance in that. He comforted himself with that thought as he set about gnawing through the synthetic material to make useful-sized pieces.  
His jaw and teeth were aching when he finished and he had to keep worrying the open wound with his fingers to encourage bleeding, but an hour and a half after he began, he had four serviceable blades. Each was about 12 centimetres long and tapered to a sharp point. Unfortunately, anyone holding these makeshift blades without some kind of protection for their hands would endure having their flesh sliced open, but as a weapon, the blades were deadly.   
He carefully took hold of one and held it lightly whilst feinting a thrust. He had read how effective these blades could be, but also knew that when used to stab, one hand had to hold the blade while the other struck the end with the heel of the palm, employing a hammer-like blow. The blade would easily pass through both clothing and flesh. 

How potentially fatal the wound would be would depend on where it was delivered and how deeply. With blades as long as the ones he’d made, he hoped that any wound inflicted would prove to be, if not fatal, then certainly debilitating.  
Having achieved his goal, Jean-Luc placed the blades on the floor and retook his position near the wall, hiding the weapons by carefully sitting on them. For now, he rested his hands on his knees, but should he detect the door opening, he would quickly put his hands behind his back. Unless the captors actually came to him, it was unlikely they’d notice he was free, and since they’d already seen to the worst of his injuries, he reasoned they had no motive for re-visiting him.   
However, his stomach soured as an unwanted thought intruded into his mind. What if they come to take me for more abuse? He gritted his teeth and his lip curled as he thought defiantly, if they come for me, I’ll make damned sure at least one of them pays for it. Even if I only kill or disable one of them, it’ll increase the chances for Beverly and Katya to escape with the children.

He felt comforted by those thoughts and then smiled as his mind supplied, “Yes, and if I can get the blades to Beverly, they’ll be able to attack, or at least defend themselves”. He nodded silently, already deciding that once his wife woke, he would try to formulate some kind of plan with her. He leaned back against the wall, feeling better than he had in days.

As Will strode onto the bridge he felt energised. After an intense sexual interlude with his lover he’d fallen into a deep and restful sleep, only rousing many hours later with a call from the officer of the watch. He reported they had found a weak ion trail, identified it and had begun to follow it.   
Will’s tone was crisp as he said, “Report, Lieutenant.”  
The young man, having risen from the Command chair gave Will the usual acknowledgement. “Yes, Captain. Approximately forty minutes ago sensors picked up an ion trail. We compared it with the Haven interstellar registry and identified it as a midsized craft belonging to Lannit Yan, one of two alien beings sought by the Haven authorities. We have been following the trail ever since.”  
“Did you alert the Haven authorities?” Will asked mildly and was pleased with the young man’s reply.

“Yes, sir and we’ve received official permission to pursue the craft.” He then offered a small frown. “They have requested that on apprehension of the vessel, we bring it, and the occupants, back to Haven, Captain.”  
“And how did you respond to that?”  
The lieutenant shrugged. “I didn’t agree or disagree, sir. I told them I’d pass on their request to the ranking officer.”  
Will smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Well done, Lieutenant, you handled that perfectly.”   
The young officer stood a little straighter and risked a smile of his own. “Thank you, sir.”  
Turning to face the viewscreen, Will lowered himself into the Command chair while saying, “I have the bridge, Lieutenant, you can go off watch now.”  
“Aye, sir, thank you.” The watch officer said, before striding to the aft turbo lift with a wide grin on his face. Will spent a few moments studying the readouts on the chair screens before saying quietly, “Tactical, what’s our best speed while we follow the ion trail?” He half turned to look at the officer when she’d hesitated in answering. She caught his eye and gave a helpless shrug.

“That’s a very hard question to answer, sir.” She responded respectfully. Will’s eyes narrowed and he rose from his seat, joining the woman at her station.   
“I take it the trail is attenuating?” he said gently, not wishing to intimidate the young ensign.  
“Yes, sir, it is. But...” she hesitated again, and Will encouraged her to continue with a nod and a smile. “Well, sir, it’s the rate of attenuation. It’s inconsistent, sir, one minute strong, the next very weak.”  
“And you feel we have to take a conservative approach and keep our speed low so as to avoid missing any course changes our target vessel may have taken?” Will prompted gently.  
“Yes, sir.” The young woman nodded tentatively.  
“Well there are a few things to consider here, Ensign.” Will smiled. “But I guess the first is their vessel’s method of propulsion. Not all engines are the same and because of that, their trace outputs can vary greatly. This, for instance...” he gestured to the graphic on the ensign’s panel. “Looks to me like a pulsing singularity.” 

He raised his eyebrows, waiting while the young woman made the correct mental connections. Will knew she’d caught his clue when the ensign snapped her fingers. “That would account for the inconsistent ion output.”   
“Indeed.” Will agreed. “And now we know what kind of propulsion method they use, we have another way to track them, an easier one, as it turns out.” He waited again while the ensign searched her mind for any reference to pulsing singularities but failed.  
She gave an exasperated shrug and shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not familiar with that kind of propulsion.”  
Will’s smile was an understanding one. “That’s not surprising, Ensign, it’s not all that popular an engine type, there are inherent dangers in using pulsing singularities as a power source.” He frowned and shook his head. “I think even the Romulans may be reconsidering the use in their ships.” He glanced at the readout again and tapped in a few Commands. “Rather than concentrating on the ions, if we narrow our scans to look for mesons...”  
The ensign grinned. “A sub atomic particle.” She grinned up at the tall acting captain. “I get it, sir. Mesons are a by-product of the singularity that decay very rapidly, leaving electrons, neutrinos or photons, depending on whether or not the original mesons were charged or not.” She was thinking fast, enthusiastic to make up for her earlier lapse. “And because there are more of them and in a consistent distribution, following a decayed meson trail would be easier than following the much weaker ion trail.”  
Will’s much-improved mood permeated the bridge quickly. Whereas in the previous days he’d been sullen and unapproachable, now he was almost back to his genial self. There were smiles exchanged among the bridge crew.  
Now with the bit between his teeth, Will ordered the ship increase her speed to ¾ impulse, and within five hours they encountered the position where their quarry had dropped out of warp and altered course dramatically. The Enterprise slowed, turned in a wide arc, located the new direction of travel and re-oriented herself. Over the next twelve hours this occurred eighteen times.

Deanna could see that her lover was tired and a little dispirited when he returned to his quarters. She’d not come up to the bridge, thinking it best that he oversaw the tracking of their target without her presence.  
She watched as he smiled a silent greeting, and then went straight to the bathroom, stripping off his uniform as he crossed the room. She heard the shower running and knew he wouldn’t be long, so she replicated a hot meal and was seated at the dining table with the steaming plates, cutlery, and condiments when he reappeared.  
He gave her an appreciative look and sat, picking up his cutlery and taking in a deep breath through his nose. “This smells great.” He said as he exhaled.   
He must have been ravenous, as he wolfed down the roast beef, roast potatoes, and vegetables quickly. Deanna glanced at him occasionally, waiting for the opportune time to talk to him. That came as he wiped his mouth with a serviette, sat back and held up his hand to stifle a burp.

Deanna smiled on seeing how satisfied he looked. A small snicker escaped, causing Will to grin at her. “Ok, yes, I was hungry.”  
“Do tell?” Deanna feigned incredulity. She then tilted her head and laughed. “Dessert?” She asked sceptically, wondering if he could really fit in any more.  
He considered the question for a moment or two before nodding. “Yes, um ... I think ... hot apple pie.”  
Deanna watched in amused silence as he rose and went to the replicator, but she snorted happily when he returned with his apple pie, with cream, and a chocolate fudge/ice-cream creation for her.  
He grinned with wicked delight as he placed the frosted bowl in front of her, making sure he gave her dinner plate a long look. She feigned outrage. “Oh, all right, so I don’t eat very fast and there’s still a bit on my plate...” she wagged a finger at her lover, “But, I’d just like to point out that I didn’t ask for this dessert.”

His tender kiss on her brow told her he knew. She smiled up at him, letting him see her love in her obsidian eyes. They left the table and took their desserts into the living area. “So,” Deanna murmured quietly, her mouth filled with chocolate ice cream and fudge. “How’s the pursuit going?”  
Will sighed and contemplated his dessert, idly using his spoon to distribute the cream over the hot pie, then watching as it thinned in the heat. Eventually he sighed and replied, “As good as can be expected, I suppose, but nowhere near as fast as I’d hoped.”  
When Deanna said nothing, Will sighed again and elaborated. “First we had a bit of a problem sniffing out the ion trail. That was fairly quickly sorted out...” To Deanna’s enquiring raised eyebrow, Will explained, “Their propulsion system is a pulsing singularity. Once we recalibrated the sensors to search for decayed mesons instead of ions, we had no further problems ... but ...”  
“But?”

“The aliens are using a catch-me-if-you-can method of fleeing. They’re making multiple course changes. They seem to be random in direction, speed and duration, but so far all sub warp.”  
Deanna frowned her commiseration. “That’s very frustrating.” She said rhetorically.  
Will responded anyway. “Yes, it is.” He agreed; his voice tinged with irritation. He took a bite of his pie and chewed vigorously; his brow lowered as he swallowed. “I was feeling so positive, Deanna.” he sighed deeply. “Ok, so we haven’t rescued our people yet, but I had something to work with; something real and the chase had begun...”  
Deanna nodded sympathetically. “I understand your frustration, Will, I share it.”  
He glanced at his lover and offered a grateful smile, letting her know she didn’t have to say anything, such as, ‘be patient.’ When he said nothing further, she asked quietly, “So, it’s just a case of persevering. They have to be going somewhere.”  
“Yeah, and once they get there, wherever that is, provided they stay still long enough, we’ll get them.”  
“Yes, we’ll get the kidnappers and rescue our friends.” She smiled, but inside her mind wrestled with worry. “Then my work begins.” She thought silently. “Only time will tell if I can help them.”  
They finished their meal in relative silence, then went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Beverly woke and looked around through slitted eyes, momentarily disoriented. Realityly quickly reasserted itself and she scowled as she sat up, idly massaging her hand. She’d regained almost all feeling in her body, but there were still lingering episodes of numbness in her hand. It annoyed her and, to be truthful, worried her too.   
She shoved those thoughts aside and was about to rise to her feet when her husband’s roughened voice made her freeze. “Beverly?” he said quietly and cautiously. “Can you come and sit with me, please?”  
She moved automatically, before her mind and its dreadful memories kicked into gear and made her hesitate. It was one thing to sit close to him, to cradle his head and comfort him when he was semi-conscious, but the voice she’d just heard was fully aware. If Jean-Luc noticed Beverly’s hesitation, he said nothing.

She settled beside him, close, but not close enough to allow physical contact. When Jean-Luc lifted his hands, Beverly flinched and gasped while her mind hurried to make sense of what her eyes had seen. at seeing Hhe was free of the manacles. Why had she not seen this? She wondered incredulously. Was she so inured to their situation that she only saw what she expected to see? What she wanted to see?  
Jean-Luc seemed to understand her shock and said gently, “I won’t hurt you, Beverly.”

Her face reddened in embarrassment as she tried to wave his comment away, but they both knew she was wary of him and frightened. Still trying to cover her wariness, Beverly asked quietly, “Have they been in while we slept?”  
He understood the question and shook his head. “No, not since many, many hours ago when they brought in the supplies and treated some of my injuries.”  
“Then how...” Beverly gestured to his free hands. He offered a lopsided smile, wincing as it opened up some cuts. “The manacles were loosened to clean away the dried blood on my wrists and Twenth forgot to retighten them.”  
Beverly leaned in a little to inspect the damage to his wrists and hands. “How long did it take to get them off?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged and pulled down the corners of his mouth. “About half an hour, I think.”

“Wow.” Was all Beverly said. She knew that her husband was trying to appear as innocuous as possible but, as much as it upset Beverly, she couldn’t quash her fear of him. He began to lean towards herher, and she suddenly moved further away, causing Jean-Luc to close his eyes and raise a placating hand. “It’s all right.” He said softly. “I want to give you some items I made.”  
When Beverly stayed silent, her gaze wary and suspicious, he sighed and explained, “I made some weapons while you slept. I’m sitting on them.”  
Beverly was going to apologise, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it, so instead she simply nodded and waited to see what he would do next. He leaned over a bit more, then one at a time he carefully brought the blades into view. Beverly’s eyes widened and she whispered, “How the hell did you make those?”

Once again seated on his backside, Jean-Luc picked up one of the blades and offered it to Beverly. He watched in silence as she inspected it, testing its hard rigidity, and carefully brushing her thumb over the edges to gauge the sharpness. Her assessment pleased him a great deal. “These are remarkable, Jean-Luc.” sShe said, and then repeated her first question. “How did you make them?” she then added, “And what did you use to make them?”  
He gestured to the small rubbish pile. “Empty water bottles.” Beverly’s eyebrows rose and she nodded. “Ah, yes, of course. I think I recall reading something about that a few years ago.” She then frowned deeply. “But wasn’t there something required to alter the synthetic polymer? Some kind of chemical reaction needed?”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc smiled ruefully. “The reaction is achieved by covering the polymer in fresh blood for several a few minutes, then drying it as quickly as possible. The resulting chemical reaction hardens the substance and makes all the edges razor-sharp.”  
Beverly nodded as she remembered the details, but her eyes were roaming over Jean-Luc’s body, looking for the source of the blood he used. Her eyes stopped searching when she saw a freshly scabbing wound on his torso, surrounded by equally fresh bruising.

“That must have hurt.” sShe remarked softly, causing Jean-Luc’s eyes to harden and his shoulders to shrug. “In the general scheme of things, not all that much, actually.”  
His oblique reference to his other injuries made Beverly’s mind fill with resentful anger. She knew such feelings were unwarranted, but she couldn’t help it. She glared hotly, but managed to hold her tongue, now was not the time to air her feelings. Once again, if Jean-Luc noticed, he chose to ignore it. He nodded towards the blades. “They need to be hidden.”  
Beverly gave Jean-Luc a look that clearly said, ‘Why?’ He sighed and answered her unasked question. “I’ve been giving the situation a lot of thought.” hHe said tiredly. It was becoming obvious that he needed to lie down; he had untreated internal injuries that were taking their toll.

However, he stayed seated and continued. “This vessel is a shuttle, Beverly, not built for long-range space flight. That tells me we’re being taken to either a planet, which I doubt, or a ship, which I feel is far more likely. Now, given that this craft has limitations in range and accommodation in terms of supplies, I’d wager our journey might be nearing its end, and if that’s the case, then our captors are going to be moving us. If those blades...” he again nodded to the weapons, “are found in our possession, I fear the punishments will be dire.”

He didn’t expound on that, simply leaving it hanging in the air. Beverly nodded slowly, thinking over what he’d said. “Ok, I can see that.” sShe agreed cautiously. “But these aren’t any good to us if we can’t access them.”  
“I agree.” Jean-Luc responded. “So, our hiding place has to be easily accessible.” He then sighed and winced at the pain it caused. “If we’re taken from this craft...” he shrugged and held up his hands. “I haven’t figured that out yet. Perhaps, if this shuttle is within another, bigger ship, one of us might get the opportunity to retrieve them, but as long as they keep us naked, I don’t see we have much choice other than to hide them somewhere in this room.”  
Beverly held up her blade and again tested the edges with her thumb. She said aloud what she was thinking. “Hmm, far too sharp to secrete internally.” The comment caused Jean-Luc to grimace, but Beverly didn’t see his reaction. He cleared his throat and remarked, “Indeed, in fact unless some kind of protection is found for the hand, whoever uses them is going to gain some serious lacerations.”

Beverly shrugged. “True, but worth it if in that use we secure our freedom. I can repair lacerations. I can’t resurrect the dead.”  
Deciding the conversation was straying into dangerous territory, Jean-Luc changed the subject. “So,” he said was feigned optimism. “hHave you any thoughts as to where would be a good hiding place?”  
Beverly’s eyes scanned the room, this time trying to see it with a different perspective. Eventually she shrugged and pointed with her blade. “That ODN port. It’s the only panel I think we’re going to be able to remove and then replace with no sign it’s been disturbed.”  
Jean-Luc nodded thoughtfully. He kept his eyes on the panel as he asked, “And do you think you can do that?”

Beverly gave her husband a confused look. “I suppose, but why aren’t you going to help me?”   
“Because I’m not feeling very well, and I don’t think I can stand up.” He tried to smile as he said that, butthat but failed. Concern flashed through Beverly and she lifted a hand to touch his lightly bearded face but stopped short of completing the gesture.  
This time Jean-Luc couldn’t hide his hurt. “Beverly...” he whispered sadly, but the doctor had already climbed to her feet. Still holding her blade, she crossed the room and, after a bit of a struggle, managed to open the panel. She retrieved the other blades in silence and carefully placed them within the recess. She replaced the panel, checked to see that there was no trace of her actions then went and retook her seat, but this time further away from her husband.   
He sighed and, as he began to lie down, he murmured, “It’d be best if Katya wasn’t informed about the weapons, she might say something under duress.”  
Beverly simply nodded. Three hours latter everything changed.

Lannit Yan was feeling decidedly smug. They had almost reached their hidden ship, only an hour stood between him and untold wealth. He’d contacted the potential buyers and arranged for them to visit his ship and, to add pressure on the customers; he’d made sure they were all to come at the same time. If nothing else, it would sort the genuine buyers from the merely curious.  
As previously arranged, all his customers were nearby, it would take only an hour for them to reach his ship, but he wasn’t about to place himself or his ship in a situation where he could be compromised.  
At present his vessel was hidden in a hollow asteroid, but although that made an excellent hiding place, it made a very difficult place to make any hasty exits. He had absolutely no intention of being caught. He wasn’t naive; he understood that his customers would be as ruthless and avaricious as he was, so the threat of being assaulted or killed and his prizes stolen was very real.  
To that end it was his intention to take his ship out of the asteroid and meet the customers in clear space, but near enough to the asteroid field to use as protection should any of the customers attempt to outwit him.   
Lannit grinned to himself as he considered his backup plan. Twenth would be the main player in his plans, but somehow, he doubted the older male would survive the scheme.  
His expression hardened into disgust as he heard Twenth entering the cockpit. His voice carried a note of sullenness, just enough to be heard, but not enough for Lannit to have reason to react to. “How much longer until we reach the ship?”  
Lannit lazily turned his seat and gave the console a glance. “Just under an hour.”

“Then you’d best send the signal to activate the systemsDr.”  
Lannit glared at Twenth and allowed a long silence. He was somewhat surprised when Twenth showed no signs of his usual nervousness such a threatening gesture would normally evoke. He decided to test the waters. “Are you telling me how to do my job?”  
Twenth shrugged, but there was a fierce defiance in his eyes. “No, Lannit, just making sure you do it.”  
His remark angered Lannit deeply and he rose slowly from his seat, murderous fury boiling inside him. He took one step towards Twenth then stopped, staring incredulously at the weapon in Twenth’s hand.  
“No, Lannit, you’ll not hurt me any more.” The taller being said softly, a hint of moisture in his eyes. However, his emotional turmoil did alter his resolve. Tthe hand that held the weapon was rock-steady.  
In an incredible display of regaining control of himself, Lannit took a deep, steadying breath and schooled his features. “You’re quite right, Twenth, I’m not going to hurt you any more.” hHis sudden grin was shockingly evil looking. “I’m going to do much more than that.”  
Somehow Twenth found a smile. “Oh,” he sighed, “I don’t doubt that, but you’ll have to catch me off-guard first.” Twenth watched as Lannit’s grin grew. Before he could say anything, Twenth nodded and said, “Yes, I know what you’re thinking, Lannit,” he sighed and shook his head. “You’re thinking it’ll be easy to catch me off-guard; you’re already congratulating yourself for being so much more intelligent than me, and it’s true, you are, but consider this, Lannit,”   
Twenth’s eyes glittered with uncharacteristic cunning. “Prey is always most dangerous when it knows it’s being hunted.”  
“And the hunter is always prepared.” Lannit all but sneered. He then seemed to give himself a mental shake. “But while we parry here, Twenth, we waste valuable time. I will send the systems activation signal,signal; you go and make sure our items visit the sanitary unit. It wouldn’t do to have one of them urinate or defecate while our customers are inspecting them.”  
After giving Lannit a long, speculative look, Twenth nodded slowly then left the cockpit. It took all of Lannit’s control to not smash his fists down on the console. His urge to inflict serious damage to something was almost overwhelming. Still trembling with rage, Lannit began to formulate another plan, one that would see Twenth enduring an agonising, slow death. The very thought caused his cock to harden.

Jean-Luc had only lain down for twenty minutes. The pain he was experiencing inside his body made it too uncomfortable to remain prone, so he slowly sat up and watched in silence as Beverly fed their daughter. James was awake and he sat close to Beverly, leaning against her torso, his thumb in his mouth. Jean-Luc had tried to engage his son, but the boy wouldn’t respond, he barely even looked at his father.  
It was Beverly who put an end to Jean-Luc’s attempts to talk to his son, saying quietly, but testily, “Don’t, Jean-Luc. Just stop.”

Katya, also awake, watched in silence as she easily picked up on the tension between the couple. She smiled inwardly. She’d guessed, in fact she’d hoped this would happen, and she’d been waiting for it. Beverly’s sympathy and understanding for her husband was waning and Katya couldn’t be more savagely happy.  
Jean-Luc only looked at Katya once. He was trying to spare her aguish, he correctly surmised she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him, but when he saw the unadulterated hatred in her eyes as she stared back at him, he quickly decided to not look at her again.  
Before she’d woken, Jean-Luc had managed to put the manacles back on. His reason was the same as the one for hiding the blades. If he was caught free, then punishments were sure to be meted out and he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone being tortured, and that included him.  
Besides, such was his physical condition he’d be all but useless in terms of fighting, should an ambush of some sort be attempted. He could barely sit upright.  
So, when Twenth suddenly entered the room, the tension shot up, but not because Jean-Luc or Beverly thought their weapons stash was going to be discovered. It was more fear in why he was present. He soon made that clear. With the weapon in his hand, he went to Beverly and stared down implacably as she finished feeding Elly, and then went to burp her, but his gaze shifted to Katya, along with a leering smile. “No.” hHe muttered. “You’re coming with me,” He pointed at Beverly. “she,” he gestured to the trembling Katya, “will take the infant.”

Beverly knew better than to speak, but she desperately wanted to ask why she was being singled out. Her dread and fear went up as Twenth gestured to James. “He will come too.”  
With Lannit’s dark, casual remarks about Twenth’s sexual tastes in her mind, Beverly handed Elly to Katya and then wrapped a protective arm around her son. She looked up at Twenth, and whispered brokenly, “Please, don’t...”  
The tall alien squatted in front of Beverly and suddenly backhanded her across her face with his fist. “I’m really getting tired of this.” hHe said in a conversational tone. “When are you going to learn to show respect?”  
He hit her again, causing James to begin to cry softly. Her head spinning, Beverly tried to make sense of what he was saying. “I haven’t been disrespectful.” sShe managed. Twenth snorted and hit her again. He then casually slapped James. “I demand instant obedience, not hesitation and begging.” 

He was going to hit both Beverly and James again when a quiet voice sounded behind him. “Don’t do that, Twenth.” He looked around, surprised to see Jean-Luc had somehow gained his feet and was standing, although leaning heavily against the wall. “If you must demonstrate your brutality, then use me.”  
A wide grin spread across Twenth’s face as his eyes glittered cruelly. “That is a very good idea, Picard.” He stood upright and walked to Jean-Luc, the wretched man’s battered body quivering with the effort to remain upright. Twenth spat a glob of mucous in Jean-Luc’s face and leaned close to his ear. “When I’ve carried out my tasks, I’ll come for you, my little toy. I do so enjoy hearing you scream.” He turned, and then seemed to have a second thought. He leaned close again and murmured, “And this time I’ll bring your son as well, he can watch what I’m doing to you, then you can help prepare him for what I’m going to do to him.”  
“No!” Jean-Luc shouted, but then was rendered incapable of speech when Twenth ripped a powerful punch into Jean-Luc’s stomach. He crumpled to the floor, strained, breathless wheezing moans torn from his throat.  
Twenth left him, going to Beverly who was standing now, trying to comfort her almost hysterical son. Odd, high pitched sounds were coming from him and his eyes were vacant. Twenth sneered at the boy and gestured for Beverly to precede him out the door. She was only slightly relieved to find they were taken to the sanitary unit. 

Once each woman and James had successfully used the unit, Twenth came for Jean-Luc. He’d barely recovered enough to regain his breathing when Twenth separated him from the tether and dragged him from the room. He was lifted and dumped unceremoniously onto the toilet seat and, with the threat of more punishment ringing in his ears, managed to pass his bodily waste. It was heavily bloodstained. No one was surprised.  
Twenth then hauled Jean-Luc to the floor and grinned evilly down at the helpless man. “I’m going to get your brat now, Picard. I’m so looking forward to discovering if I can get all of my cock...” he got no further. Lannit’s hand clamped down on Twenth’s shoulder, causing the being to whip around, the weapon suddenly in his hand and emitting a soft whine as it powered up.  
Lannit released his hold of Twenth’s shoulder and took a step back, making a show of raising his hands, but made sure Twenth saw the amused smile on his face. “There’s no need for that.” hHe said, barely holding laughter at bay. “We’re about to dock the shuttle. I require your assistance.”  
Twenth glared at his one-time friend and then delivered a savage kick to Jean-Luc’s back. He smiled coldly, saying “What a pity. I was looking forward to some fun.”  
He bent down and grabbed Jean-Luc’s manacles, and, pulling his arms painfully up his back, dragged him back to his tether. As he left the room he smiled at the captives. “Soon you will see your potential owners. Be on your best behaviour, or I will make you sorry to be alive.”

Beverly cast a long look at her husband, appalled at seeing blood seeping from newly inflicted wounds. Twenth left and Beverly hurried to Jean-Luc’s side. As long as he appeared helpless and barely conscious, she had no trouble examining him. Her gentle, knowing hands pushed and prodded as she assessed him as best she could, and her worry increased as she discovered just how badly he was injured he was.   
Katya blinked slowly, her mind finding it increasingly difficult to grasp what was happening. With Twenth’s pronouncement she’d panicked, anxiety and fear all but making her mind close down. She was tormented by images of more rape, not only by Jean-Luc, but other, as yet unknown individuals and the resulting terror drove her into a deeper kind of stupor.   
Beverly looked over her shoulder, somehow suspecting that Katya was undergoing a mental withdrawal. James was clinging tightly to her torso, his head turned so he didn’t have to see his father.  
The red head wiped at the tears that coursed down her face, helplessnesshelplessness, and anger warring for dominance. “What the hell are we going to do?” she whispered hoarsely. She wasn’t expecting Jean-Luc to answer her.  
“Take advantage of the situation.” hHe gasped roughly.   
Beverly gaped incredulously. “And just how are we supposed to do that?” she hissed. He slowly turned his head so he could see her. It was an obviously very painful manoeuvre, but he hid his pain. “Get the blades. Arm yourselves ... and me too.” He began to move his hands. Yet again, Twenth had neglected to check the manacles. “When the buyers come, attack them.”  
“Jean-Luc...” Beverly said softly and unsteadily, thinking her husband has lost his mind. “We can’t do that ... they’ll...” 

“Beverly, listen.” hHe panted, the effort of speaking difficult to sustain. “Do you want to be sold? Do you want our children sold?” He didn’t elaborate; he didn’t have to, the horror of those simple questions enough to rob Beverly of speech. “One way or another, we’re doomed ... all of us.” hHe whispered, tears sliding down his pale, haggard face. “I’d rather we all died trying to escape than...”  
Beverly’s hand went to her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle her sobs. She knew he was right, that it was better for all of them to die rather than to be sold to aliens with unknown agendas. And, she thought frantically, if she were to be separated from her children, never to know where they went or what happened to them ... she gasped and choked back a sob. “You’re right.” sShe said, defeated. “I’ll get the blades.”   
Unfortunately, Jean-Luc failed to free his hands, he was simply too weak. Beverly thought it best to let him rest. She would be the one to defend the captives.

Using his ship’s computer to assist in docking the shuttle, Lannit sat back and grinned coldly as he felt the slight bump travel through the deck plates. “Ah.” hHe said to himself, quietly. “Now to instigate phase two.” He spent a few moments inputting Commandcommands into the console, then stood and moved quickly through the shuttle, exiting through a side hatch.  
He traversed the distance through the larger ship, sighing in deep satisfaction as he entered the bridge. It was a modest ship; certainlycertainly, nowhere near the size of the Enterprise, but the vessel was well equipped and modern. He ran his fingers lightly over the weapons console, grinning coldly as he recalled the power enhancements he’d paid for. He felt confident he could more than hold his own in a fire-fightfirefight, but such was his nature, he preferred to run than stand and fight. Still, he thought smugly, it was comforting to know his ship could give as good as it got.

It was the work of mere moments to pilot the vessel out of the asteroid. Of course, the on-board computer did most of the work, but Lannit managed to convince himself it was his flying skills that accomplished the tricky and difficult task.  
Having achieved open space, he piloted the vessel at high warp 1.5 light parsecsyears from the asteroid field, and then stopped. He sent a prearranged signal to his customers, and then went aft and down three decks to check on his soon-to-be-ex partner.  
Twenth had exited the shuttle and was biding his time as he waited for Lannit. Anger and deep resentment simmered just under the surface and it was making it very difficult for him to think clearly, something that was vital if he waswere to not only outsmart Lannit but remain alive in the process.  
He’d thought up and discarded many schemes over the preceding hours but was no closer to a plan of action than when he started. When Lannit suddenly appeared, humming a jaunty melody, it was all Twenth could do to not shoot him there and then. It would certainly solve his problems, but just as certainly deprive him of the obscene wealth that awaited him.  
Twenth had considered how the viewing and subsequent bidding would unfold, but when Lannit casually told Twenth to get back in the shuttle and oversee the viewing, he gaped, confused and wary.  
“Why?” he asked plaintively, then, angered, and embarrassed by how pathetic he sounded, tried again. “Why is the viewing to be held on the shuttle?” he gestured his hand in a wide sweep of the shuttle bay. It wasn’t a particularly large bay, but it was considerably larger than the shuttle’s rear cargo space that the captives currently occupied.  
“There’s much more room out here.” hHe stated confidently, as if Lannit was unaware of such an obvious truth. Lannit sighed theatrically and adopted his sarcastically patient ‘you must be an idiot’ tone. “Because the shuttle is going to leave the ship and take up a position 1000 km from here.”

Once again deeply unsettled, suspicious and confused, Twenth’s eyes narrowed as he asked. “But why, Lannit? Why is the shuttle going to be out there, away from the ship?”  
This time Lannit actually rolled his eyes, making it patently obvious that he thought Twenth was stupid. “Twenth, do you want your share of the winning bids?”  
Twenth nodded slowly, butslowly but said nothing. “Good.” Lannit smiled indulgently. “So, given we both want to receive and keep the hard-won fruits of our labour, don’t you think it’d be wise to take the necessary precautions to protect ourselves?”  
Twenth’s frown was so fierce it put his eyes in deep shadow. “Protect ourselves?” he barked. “From what?”  
Lannit shook his head in disbelief. He sighed and gave Twenth an incredulous look. “From our customers!”  
When Twenth didn’t react, Lannit sighed again and began to explain. “All right, Twenth.” hHe said with barely controlled impatience. “Let’s say we conduct the viewing here on the ship. You, me, our goods, and the buyers. With me so far?”  
Twenth glowered, butglowered but refrained from reacting. “So, what do you think would happen if one or all of the buyers decide they want our saleable items but don’t want to part with any latinum?”  
“They would fight amongst themselves?” Twenth offered hopefully. He frowned again when Lannit shook his head. “No, Twenth, they wouldn’t do that, it’d be counterproductive.” He saw Twenth’s confusion and sighed. “It’d be more likely they’d collude, Twenth, gang up on us and then take our goods. They could sort it out amongst themselves later, after they’d dealt with us.”  
“Dealt with us?” Twenth repeated tentatively, still very uncertain. He wasn’t stupid, far from it, but somehow Lannit had always been able to reduce him to a confused and addled parody of himself and the more it upset him, the worse the mental confusion became. Of course, Lannit used his ability to manipulate others, his mental agility, as it suited him. Manipulating his partner was most often used as a form of amusement, but the stakes had risen quite a bit now, so he was careful to make a concerted effort to truly addle the older being.

“I don’t mean that in a mercantile sense, Twenth, I mean after they’ve killed us .... and taken our goods.”  
“Bastards!” Twenth spat, willing to believe Lannit rather than suffer any more mental gymnastics. “So, while I’m overseeing the viewing..?” he asked cautiously, hoping Lannit will provide a simple explanation.  
The younger being smiled. “I’ll be watching with our ship’s weapons targeting the buyer’s ships.” He gave an encouraging smile. “One wrong move, one threatening word, and I destroy their ships.”  
“What about negotiating the price ... you know ... the deals and stuff?”  
“Leave that to me.” Lannit said placatingly, knowing full well that he’d won this exchange easily. Twenth, in order to appear agreeable and on top of the conversation, would do anything to please him now. “You just oversee the viewing” hHe said encouragingly. “I’ll even pilot the shuttle remotely, so all you have to do is watch our captives. The buyers will transport over.”  
Twenth was nodding enthusiastically now, visualising his role. He then frowned. “And what if they ask me any questions?”  
Lannit shrugged, then gave a confident smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to identify any questions that need to come to me to answer, but by all means, feel free to answer any you feel confident in doing so.” Lannit declared magnanimously. He sobered then and adopted a serious visage. “There’s something I must ask of you, though, Twenth.”  
Now putty in Lannit’s hands, Twenth nodded, his gaze almost adoring. “Anything, Lannit, you know that.”  
“Thank you, old friend.” Lannit said, while somehow hiding the hatred inside him. “You mustn’t play with any of the goods.”  
Twenth’s disappointment was obvious. He was still annoyed at being denied his carnal pleasures with Jean-Luc and James, and he’d already thought of how he’d pass the time while he waited for the buyers to arrive. But now he was being told he was to be denied again.

His anger surged and with the heated emotions came metal clarity. “Who cares if I have some fun?” hHe asked belligerently, “We’re selling the captives, they don’t have to be in pristine condition, their value is in their breeding potential, not in their physical condition.”  
Twenth wasn’t alone in feeling angry. Lannit only just controlled himself as his anger turned to murderous fury. “Well, if I were a prospective buyer, especially if I wanted to purchase Picard for my own sexual pleasure, I doubt I’d be happy to see him with his blood and your semen dribbling from his arsehole!”   
A smile crept across Lannit’s face. “Besides,” Lannit thought of something to placate his suddenly rebellious partner. “We haven’t collected semen from Picard.” hHe smiled inwardly at seeing dawning excitement on Twenth’s face. Lowering his voice seductively, Lannit murmured, “Why don’t you take some of those injections I know you took from Hu’s medical room, and milk the good captain?”  
As Twenth’s cock began to harden, Lannit chuckled. “You’re like a wild beast in heat, Twenth.” He gave the outline of the older male’s cock an appreciative look then said quietly, “You make sure you get back to me quickly after the viewing’s concluded.”  
Twenth nodded eagerly, already fidgeting to get going. Lannit chuckled again and gave a wave of his hand. “Very well, Twenth, go now. You’ll have two hours in which to extract as much semen from Picard as you can get. Enjoy.”  
Lannit watched dispassionately as Twenth hurried into the shuttle, his expression cold. “I won’t get the opportunity to make you scream as you die, Twenth, at least not as I wished, but hopefully you’ll scream when you realise the torpedo heading for the shuttle came from my ship.”  
The negotiations with the buyers were all but over. Unless one of the purchasers saw something they objected to with regards to their goods, Lannit had already organised for the individual purchases to be beamed directly to the buyers’ ships. Twenth, of course, would be trapped on the shuttle, unable to transport off, or have any control over the ship’s systemsDr. He’d be alone and helpless as Lannit obliterated him. Just as Lannit had planned.  
Then the latinum would be transferred to a well-hidden account and all parties would leave, in all probability never to see each other again, and as insurance, Lannit would keep a weapons lock on each buyer’s ship, just in case, until he was well out of range. That part of his explanations to Twenth was true.

Lannit rubbed his growing erection, his expression becoming dreamy. His tumescence wasn’t overtly sexual in nature, more like borne of satisfaction and expectation. He’d spend the next two hours masturbating. A poor substitute for penetrative sex, he thought sourly, but better than nothing.   
As he made his way to his spacious and well-appointed bedroom, he gave some thought to finding a new partner, certainly a difficult task as the individual had to share Lannit’s sexual tastes, be of a venally criminal mind, and yet be easily manipulated. No, not an easy task, but he so loved a challenge.

Will stood abruptly and turned quickly to glare at the officer at tactical. “Again?” Will barked angrily.  
“Yes, Captain.” The lieutenant said calmly. “This course change has occurred only 10,000 km from the last one and by the distribution of the mesons; we have ascertained the target’s speed has changed again, this time increasing to the equivalent of our ¾ impulse, sirsir.”   
Clenching his teeth so hard his jaw hurt, Will took a deep breath to calm himself. “And that’s how many course changes in the last three hours?”   
“Eight, Captain.”  
Letting out a forceful breath, Will retook his seat and scrubbed his face with his hands. “This is taking too long.” hHe muttered angrily, mostly to himself, but overheard by Deanna, seated at his right. She leaned slightly towards him and said quietly, “It’s not like we have any choice, Will.”  
He huffed an annoyed breath and gave the forward viewscreen a baleful look. “Yeah, I know.” hHe replied sarcastically, then immediately regretted venting his anger and frustration on his best friend and lover. “It’s just that with all these damned random and frequent course changes, and the fact that we’ve no way to even guess how long they stay on any given course, we can’t extrapolate where they might be heading.” He made a chopping gesture with his hand. “We can’t even make an informed guess, Dee.”  
Deanna sighed and placed a hand on his forearm in a gesture of support and sympathy. “Have you contacted investigator Vurenn? Perhaps she may have some idea of where they’re headed?”  
“I made a request to speak with her over an hour ago; I’m still waiting for her to respond.” Will replied in a slightly exasperated tone. He then added, “But Deanna, she’s as eager as we are to apprehend Lannit Yan and Twenth. If she’s as good at her job as I think she is, there’s no way she’d miss giving us any information that’d lead us to them, no matter how small and innocuous it may seem.”  
Deanna didn’t reply vocally, choosing instead to show her agreement with his assessment by nodding. They sat in silence for several long seconds before Deanna straightened and gave Will’s forearm a squeeze. “Well, as we said before, Lannit Yan and Twenth have to be heading somewhere, we just have to keep following their trail.”

Will nodded, and then sent a cold smile. “You know, Deanna, there’s one upside to this.”   
Intrigued, Deanna tilted her head, a half-smile evident, but a little unsure what Will’s expression was saying. “This stupid chase is really pissing me off, so when we do catch up with themthem, I’ll be that much more likely to ignore some of the more ‘humane’ ways of treating prisoners.”  
Deanna didn’t like what she’d just heard, but wisely chose to leave any protest or discussion for another time. However, when they did eventually catch up with their quarry, she’d be careful to watch her lover and be ready to do whatever she needed to, to ensure he followed the correct methods and procedures in dealing with those under his control.  
An hour later, Will was scowling as the officer at tactical announced, “Incoming communiqué for you, Captain. It’s Investigator Vurenn.”  
For such a big man, Will was perfectly capable of moving very quickly. He was up and out of the Commandcommand chair and half way to the doors as he instructed, “I’ll take it in the ready room.”  
The acknowledgement of his order went unheard as Will hurried to the desk and took his seat. He slapped the control of the desk monitor so hard it caused a momentary flicker of the screen. Just as Vurenn’s face appeared, the door chime sounded. Will shouted brusquely, “Come in!” knowing it would be Deanna.   
She entered to see Will’s face settle on something more civilised than the fierce scowl that’d had been the norm for the past few hours. “Investigator,” Will summoned a smile he hoped looked convincing. “Thank you for getting back to me; I know how busy you are.”

The frown and obvious irritation that was gracing Vurenn’s face slowly morphed into something more benign. She too summoned a smile, but unlike Will, she didn’t really care if it looked convincing or not. Deciding to forgo pleasantries, the female said evenly, “What can I do for you, Captain?” She made show of looking to Will’s left and right. “I take it you haven’t caught Lannit Yan or Twenth, yet?”  
There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone, but Will chose to ignore it. “Sadly, no, Investigator, but we are still following their trail.”  
“Well, that’s something, at least.” Vurenn sighed. Will nodded his agreement.  
“Yes, it is, but I was wondering if I might ask you to recheck your information.”  
“To what end?” Vurenn asked, slightly confused. “I gave you all we had.”

Will held up a placating hand. “I don’t doubt that, Investigator, but this pursuit we’re on is proving to be very time consuming and damned frustrating. If we had some idea of where the fugitives are headed ... some clue, no matter how small...”  
“I see.” Vurenn said thoughtfully. “Yes, I understand how helpful that kind of clue could be.” She sighed and rubbed her brow. Will winced internally as he saw how exhausted the female looked. His question left his mouth before he could stop it. “Have you had any rest at all since we last spoke?”

Vurenn’s head snapped up and she tried to adopt a nonchalant expression but failed miserably. She was just too tired to summon the energy required to carry it off. “No.” sShe admitted, her shoulders slumping. “We’ve found five more bodies, Captain. I’ve put in a request for help from StarfleetStarfleet, we’re so far out of our depth with this...” she waved a hand helplessly, making Will regret calling her. He held up his hand and said quietly, “I understand, Investigator, please disregard my call. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He closed the channel before she could respond. Will sat back, letting a long breath trickle from his nostrils.   
Deanna watched him for a few moments before saying softly, “That was kind of you, Will.”  
The husky man shrugged, his face showing his clearly conflicted emotions. “Perhaps, Dee.” hHe mutteredsaid with quiet self-recrimination. “But my kindness may have just condemned our people to an untimely death.”  
Deanna’s supportive facade crumpled as tears filled her eyes then spilled over to roll down her face. “Oh, Will,” she cried softly. “I’m so worried, so damned frustrated at being so bloody impotent!” She suddenly raised her arms and brought her small, tightly fisted hands down on the desktop. “It makes me want to scream!”

Will rose from his chair and went to his best friend, gently pulling her to her feet and taking her in his embrace, holding her as she sobbed out her anguish. His eyes shed tears too, but there was more anger than anything else inside him. It took almost half an hour before both officers were calm enough to leave the ready room. In that time there had been two more course changes, but unlike all those that had preceded it, this time they stayed on the new, most recent course, for seven long hours.

Twenth said nothing when he entered the room, yet his mere appearance sent terror into the captives. The women saw his large erection distorting his trousers and feared what was to occur, but when he went straight to Jean-Luc and quickly freed him from his tether, they breathed a sigh of relief, although Beverly worried what was going to happen to her husband.   
As fearful as she was of Jean-Luc, she still loved him and didn’t want him hurt yet again. She chose to hide her blade, wishing to wait for the opportune time to strike.  
Luckily for Jean-Luc, Twenth never saw his blade and Jean-Luc left it as Twenth dragged the barely conscious man by his foot, leaving a small bloody smear across the deck. Once inside the bedroom, Twenth hoisted Jean-Luc up and tossed him on the bed.   
He then wasted no time in injecting Jean-Luc with the stimulant and chuckled lasciviously as the poor man’s cock began to harden. “Yes, Picard,” Twenth encouraged with grotesque seductiveness. “I think you’ll enjoy this as much as I will.”   
His mouth descended onto Jean-Luc’s cock even before he was fully erect. Jean-Luc moaned a protest and tried to pull away, but Twenth slapped him hard across the face and warned, “Stop resisting or I’ll get what I want from you by squeezing it out of your balls with my hands.” He leered evilly, “And while I’d enjoy doing that, I doubt you would.”

Several terrible minutes passed before Jean-Luc realised he was about to come. Again, he tried to pull his cock from Twenth sucking mouth, butmouth but failed. As his semen began to spurt out, Twenth quickly released him and aimed the head of Jean-Luc’s cock into a small open container. Due to the injections, there was a sizeable amount of ejaculate, making Twenth growl, “Oh, well done, Picard. Now, some more, I think.”  
“More?” Jean-Luc croaked. “No ... pPlease ... no more.”  
Twenth was about to take Jean-Luc’s cock into his mouth again when he noticed his erection was waning. He sat up and slapped the offending organ hard, making Jean-Luc howl in agony.  
He never felt the injection, but soon knew what had been done as his cock grew hard again. He endured the torture four more times before he was incapable of producing any more fluid. Twenth beat him and aimed specific blows at his genitals, but Jean-Luc simply couldn’t function anymore.

Sexually frustrated and dangerously sadistic, Twenth wasn’t about to be denied his pleasures. He roughly turned Jean-Luc face down, grabbed his hips, hitched his backside up and savagely pushed his cock into the helpless man. Jean-Luc’s screams of agony were muffled by the mattress, but Twenth exalted in the pain he was causing. It made his orgasm so powerful he collapsed on his wretched victim, his weight crushing him to the bed.   
Barely able to draw breath, Jean-Luc sobbed into oblivion. Twenth rolled off his victim and rested for a few moments before contacting Lannit and informing him that he had a container of Jean-Luc’s semen ready for transporting.   
How many offspring will we gain from that? He wondered idly as the container disappeared. A cold smile spread across his face as he imagined the extra latinum the contents had the potential to bring.  
Jean-Luc became aware as Twenth was using some kind of device. He vaguely felt it being introduced into his anus and whimpered at the pain it caused. He received a hard slap to the baeck of his head for that, accompanied by Twenth saying, “Shut up! I’m just making sure you don’t bleed all over the deck when I take you back. I’m sure Lannit would be less that pleased if one of the buyers took offence at your inability to accommodate a decent sized cock and pulled out of the bidding.”  
He then guffawed and slapped Jean-Luc’s backside. “Pulled out!” he laughed again. “Oh, that was funny.” He hit Jean-Luc again, each successive blow becoming harder. “Why aren’t you laughing, Picard? Didn’t you think it was funny?”   
Jean-Luc said nothing, he was hardly aware he was being spoken to. Twenth snorted and hit the helpless man again. “No sense of humour! That’s your trouble, Picard; you’ve got no sense of humour.” Another blow was delivered. “I pity your new owner.” He laughed again,again; his innate cruelty evident as he grinned at his victim. “Still, that’s not my problem.”  
He left the bed and grabbed Jean-Luc’s foot, dragging him off the bed and onto the deck, uncaring as the poor man’s head banged hard on the floor. A fresh smear of blood marred the deck as Jean-Luc was dragged back to his place and his manacles refastened to the tether. 

Twenth stood and stretched languorously, idly considering if he dared take the young, dark haired female to the bedroom for some more fun, when he felt a blow to his chest. It wasn’t very hard, but it caused an immediately odd sensation inside him.  
He frowned and looked down at himself in confusion. His expression turned into astonishment when he saw a small portion of something protruding from his shirt and around it a rapidly spreading circle of blood. His face contorted into a mask of retributive fury, but before he could move, a blow under his nose snapped his head back.   
He felt something swipe across his throat and he raised his hands reflexively only to feel his blood pumping forcefully through his fingers. He looked about, trying to see what had done these things to him and he was bewildered to see Beverly standing in front of him, just out of reach. just out of reach in front of him.   
He watched in fascination as blood from her hands dripped patterns on the deck and, as his vision began to grey, he heard her say, “I hope you rot, you putrid sack of shit.”  
His body crumpled to the deck, spasmed twice, then laid still, a growing pool of blood surrounding it. Beverly looked over her shoulder to see Katya standing and watching, an odd, eerie expression on her face. Beverly glanced at her hands and winced. She’d taken Jean-Luc’s advice on how to deliver the stab to Twenth’s chest, but the slashing of his throat had taken a double handed grip and now her hands were badly lacerated.   
James was clinging to her leg, his face turned away from the grisly scene, and she knew she was going to cover him in blood if she touched him. She couldn’t ask Katya for help though; the young woman was definitely struggling to keep hold of her sanity and Beverly wasn’t about to endanger her son by putting him in her care. That left only one alternative. Jean-Luc.  
Whilst Twenth had been raping Jean-Luc, the shuttle had been remotely piloted out of Lannit’s ship and across 1000 km of space. There it took up a prearranged position while awaiting the arrival of the bidders. Unbeknown to the captives, there was only forty fiveforty-five minutes before they were due to arrive.

Beverly moved carefully towards her husband, taking care to be very gentle with James. Once beside the sprawled man, Beverly seated herself and spoke quietly. “Jean-Luc?” she said, hoping against hope he heard her. She had to repeat his name four times, each reiteration louder, before he stirred. Having gained his attention, Beverly began to tell him what she’d done. He stiffened at hearing Twenth was dead, somehow finding the strength to lift his head and stare at the corpse.   
He wanted to say something ... he wanted to go and spit on his torturer, but he simply couldn’t find enough strength to make the effort.   
He frowned as he felt Beverly beginning to ease his hands out of the manacles. Her blood and his further weight loss made it easier than his first try and within minutes his hands slipped free. But when he made no attempt to move, Beverly gently gripped his shoulder. “Jean-Luc, I need your help.”

“I can’t help you, Beverly.” hHe whispered. “I can’t...”  
“You just have to watch over James, that’s all.” Beverly explained quickly. “I’ll help you to sit up, ok?”  
He was shaking his head as Beverly heaved him upright. Finally giving in, Jean-Luc made a token effort to assist her and very quickly he was sitting up, his back against the wall. Beverly then turned her attention to James.  
“James, sweetie.” sShe said murmured gently. “Maman has to go and do something really important.” She wanted to stroke his hair as she often did, but with blood still flowing from the cuts to her hands, she refrained. “Can you stay with pPapa and look after him for me?”

James looked up at his mother, his jaw moving rhythmically as he sucked his thumb. His eyes were saucer-likelike, and fear was clearly evident. He began to shake his head when Beverly said, “It’s a very important job I’m asking you to do, James.” sShe enthused. “I couldn’t ask just anyone.”  
James’s eyes slid over to Katya, but Beverly shook her head. “No, James, Katya can’t do this job. She’s not feeling very well and besides, it takes a special person to do this job, that’s why I’m asking you.”  
It was obvious he was very conflicted. He wanted to help his mother, but he was frightened of his father. Ultimately it was his love for his mother and his deep desirsire to please her that tipped the balance. He nodded slowly and allowed Beverly to pick him up and gently place him on his father’s lap.

He turned immediately, presenting his father with his back, but to his credit, Jean-Luc simply wrapped his arms around his son and placed a kiss on the back of his head. Jean-Luc glanced up at Beverly with one eyebrow raised in silent query. She understood his tacit question and answered quietly.   
“I don’t know if we’re alone, or if Lannit’s here somewhere. I’m going to look.”  
He nodded his acknowledgement before whispering, “Elly?” Beverly cast a look over her shoulder then returned her attention to her husband. “Sound asleep.”  
He nodded again, then caught her eyes and mouthed, “Be careful.”  
Beverly summoned a smile, then rose to collect another blade. She then went to the corpse and carefully cut off some material from the trouser leg. Now with something to protect her hands, she approached the door, opened it, and listened cautiously before moving stealthily through the ship.

Ten minutes later she was back. Jean-Luc looked at her to see her shake her head. “Lannit’s not here.” sShe saidinformed him, a small smile gracing her face. Jean-Luc thought he understood why she was pleased, but what she said next shocked him. “Not only are we now alone, but this shuttle is sitting in space, away from wherever we were before.”  
“But we landed ... I felt it; I think...” Jean-Luc protested weakly. Beverly nodded. “Yes, me too, but we’re not landed now, we’re just hanging in space.”  
It was very difficult for Jean-Luc to think, but he needed to order his thoughts. He shook his head and asked softly, “Did you check the cockpit monitors?”  
“No,” Beverly replied guardedly. “I was more concerned with making sure Lannit Yan wasn’t lurking somewhere.”  
“Help me up.” Jean-Luc said, raising one trembling arm while gently encouraging James to get off his lap. Beverly agreed to assist, though reluctantly. She understood that should they need to operate the shuttle, Jean-Luc possessed far greater knowledge of alien technology where it came to ships systems than she.

Holding onto his arm, Beverly helped him gain his feet, then steadied him as he wavered alarmingly. After a few precarious moments he lifted a hand to let her know he’d gained control. James had automatically attached himself to Beverly’s leg, making it difficult for her to walk, but the adults managed to make their slow way to the cockpit.   
There, Jean-Luc slumped into one of the two seats and took several long minutes to calm his ragged breathing. Beverly had noticed the blood and other matter that dribbled from his anus and smeared his inner thighs, butthighs but said nothing. Having regained himself, Jean-Luc applied his attention to the monitors. 

After a brief inspection he tapped a few Commandcommands and was rewarded when the shuttle’s scanners activated. It took him several seconds to decipher what he was seeing, but when he did, he swore softly, but vehemently. He jabbed a finger at the screen. “That, presumably, is Lannit’s ship.” hHe growled, then answered Beverly’s unasked query. “I’m going by the number designation. The shuttle is bearing the same ID number as that ship, with the addition of one added character.”  
“I see.” Beverly replied quietly before nodding for Jean-Luc to continue. “And,” he said roughly, “those other five approaching targets are probably Lannit’s cohorts.”  
“BuyersCustomers, more likely.” Beverly corrected bitterly. “Twenth told us we were soon to meet our new prospective owners.”   
Jean-Luc growled an oath, then began to tap in more Commandcommands. He was gratified when he felt the tell-tale vibration of the engine coming on line. “Where are we going?” Beverly asked. She didn’t actually care, as long as it was away from Lannit and the buyers, but she was curious to learn what her husband had in mind. His reply almost made her laugh. Almost.

“Does it matter?” he grumbled. “We’re probably out-gunned and out powered, but if we can put some distance between us and our inevitable pursuers, it’ll afford us a little time to think.”  
“Makes sense.” Beverly agreed quietly. The adults watched the change in starscape as the shuttle turned and jumped to warp, heading away from Lannit’s ship.

Lannit Yan was dozing in drug-induced euphoria. His use of narcotic sex enhancers had been a snap decision. He rarely used any kind of enhancer, usually finding his sexual exploits gave him everything he needed to make them entirely satisfying, but as he was alone and having to resort to masturbation, he felt he was entitled to a little compensation.  
His still semi erect cock was encased in the device he’d used, its gentle pulsations keeping his body at a sensual level of arousal. He’d already orgasmed three times, buttimes but knew he could easily come twice more.  
He didn’t hear the message chimes; he was so deeply engrossed in his pleasure it wasn’t until he climaxed again that he finally opened his eyes and frowned at the distant-sounding noise. It took several long minutes as he lay in his bed, trying, but only half-heartedly, to discern what the noise was and if he should do anything about it.  
Realisation hit him like a splash of icy water. Uttering a particularly vulgar curse he rose from the bed so quickly he staggered, all the while trying to deactivate and remove the device from his cock. He was stumble-running to the bridge as he called, “Computer, open channel!”

He was assaulted by five angry voices, all speaking at once. It was so loud and the voices so angryagressive, that Lannit’s hands went to his ears. “Stop!” he shouted. “I can’t understand what you’re saying if you all speak at once!”  
There was a brief shouting match between all five callers before one seemed to gain dominance. “Lannit Yan!” the voice said with barely controlled menace. “Where has the shuttle gone?”  
The kidnapper recognised the voice immediately. It was a viridian broker, known for his ruthless bargaining on behalf of whoever hired him. Not only did he always get the best deals, he was utterly loyal to his employer and wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate any seller who attempted to cheat him.

Lannit had to swallow twice to wet his dry mouth. “What are you talking about?” he asked querulously. “I gave you the shuttle’s coordinates.”  
“Indeed, you did, but we logged the shuttle leaving the area at high warp.” tThe voice said smoothly. “We have all travelled great distances and risked much to be here, Lannit. Where are the goods?”  
By now Lannit had reached the bridge and was frantically searching for the shuttle. His long-range scanners just picked it up as it suddenly disappeared out of range. He smashed his fist down on the console as white-hot fury made him momentarily blind.   
He didn’t see the shimmer of light that heralded the appearance of the viridian. It was his voice that made Lannit turn, his mouth gaping in terror. “I see you’re naked.” tThe broker saidremarked, a decidedly frightening smile on his face. “Good. Saves me the time and effort of stripping you.”

Lannit backed away, holding his hands up defensively. “No!” he yelped. “There’s no need to do anything like that!” He suddenly realised how redundant that was and quickly strove to correct himself. “What I meant was...”  
The viridian shook his head while slowly drawing a wickedly curved and undoubtably razor sharp knife from a scabbard. “I don’t care what you meant, Lannit. All I care about is securing the goods for my employer.”  
“Twenth!” Lannit all but screeched. “He’s on the shuttle, he’s betrayed me!” Lannit blathered, then added hastily, “And you!”  
That made the viridian pause, one eyebrow raised in question. “Twenth has betrayed you?” he said with obvious amusement. “The same Twenth you’ve had with you all these years?” he chuckled. “I find that hard to believe, Lannit. Twenth, getting the better of you?”

Tears were beginning to brim in Lannit’s eyes. “Yes!” he shouted, frightened and humiliated. “Yes, Twenth!” he took a few deep breaths in an effort to gain some control. “He must’ve been planning this for a very long time. I was going to lock out the shuttle’s controls, but I was waiting until you’d all concluded your inspections.”  
“You suspected he’d do this?” the viridian asked slyly. Lannit’s stomach soured as he realised his mistake. “Ah ... no...”  
“Then why were you going to lock out the shuttle’s controls?”

“Just to be on the safe side.” Lannit understood his life was hanging in the balance. What he said next would tip the scales one way or another. “After all,” he murmured obsequiously, “I wanted to protect you and the others from any unfortunate mishaps.”  
The viridian spent some time studying this knife, turning it slowly so that it caught the light. Lannit swallowed and willed his stomach to calm. Eventually the viridian lifted his head and regarded Lannit with a long, cold stare. “Very well, Lannit Yan, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” He sighed with regret as he sheathed his knife. “I’ll allow you 24 hours to bring the goods to me. I’ll tell the others,others; I dare say they’ll wait.”  
Lannit almost dropped to his knees in gratitude and relief. He managed to say, “Thank you.” bBut the viridian had already beamed off the ship.

Will was perched on the edge of the Commandcommand chair, staring at the forward viewscreen so intently that Deanna idly wondered if it was indeed possible for his eyes to actually bore holes in it.   
They had finally achieved some success in tracking the shuttle. All indications showed it had entered a large, hollow asteroid. The Enterprise was slowly circling the celestial body, warily scanning and at red alert.   
The tactical officer’s voice was strained as she reported, “Captain?” As Will twisted in his seat, the officer continued, “There’s another meson trail, sirsir, heading out of the asteroid and away at what looks like high warp.”   
“The shuttle?” Will growled. He’d been considering the possibility that the fleeing kidnappers may have discovered the pursuit and, if that waswere the case, he feared for his friends.  
“No, sirsir.” Thethe officer replied. “A much larger craft.”

“What are our scanners telling us about the interior of the asteroid?” Will asked, a hard edge to his voice.  
“It’s empty, Captain, but there’s a huge amountnumber of mesons in there. My guess would be that the shuttle has been docked in the larger vessel and then that vessel has left the asteroid.”  
Will ran his fingers through his beard while nodding thoughtfully. “Makes sense.” hHe murmured thoughtfully. “The asteroid’s their bolt hole.” He stood and pointed at the viewscreen. “Follow the new trail, Lieutenant, at the maximum speed we can manage and still keep track of that fleeing ship.”  
“Aye, Captain.”

Lannit had only just inputted the Commandcommands to begin the pursuit of the shuttle when the overhead speakers came to life. “Lannit Yan!”   
The viridian’s angry tone made Lannit begin to tremble. “Yes?” he replied cautiously.  
“There is a ship heading to these coordinates at high warp.” He took the time to take a deep breath. “A StarfleetStarfleet ship. A very large fucking starship! What are you going to do about that?”  
Momentarily too shocked to reply, Lannit stood on the bridge of his ship, naked and totally rattled. He snapped his gaping mouth closed and blurted, “What am I going to do about it?” he tapped in some Commandcommands and watched with dread as the Enterprise approached. Lannit’s decision was very hastily made; he certainly gave no thought to the potential consequences. “What I’m going to do is run!” He activated his Commandcommands and turned, breaking into a sprint as he made for the lift. He called out as he ran, “I suggest you do the same!”

As Lannit’s ship jumped to warp, the viridian’s voice sounded. “This is not over, Lannit Yan. You’ll be hearing from me ... from all of us.”  
Lannit didn’t bother to reply. He was already in his quarters, pulling his clothing on.

The tactical officer had made aware informed Will of the other ships. “Captain!” The same tactical officer said urgently. “The six ships are scattering, leaving the area at high warp, each on a separate course, but sirsir?” she said tentatively. “I’ve picked up a smaller meson trace, the same as the one we tracked from Haven.”  
Will frowned as his mind came to an obvious conclusion. “The shuttle has left the bigger ship?”  
The officer shrugged. “I think so, sirsir.” 

That made Will grit his teeth as he weighed up his options. “So,” he thought angrily. “Are our people on the shuttle or the bigger ship?” He had to make a decisionmake a decision and he knew whatever he decided may well seal his friends’ fate. He chose to stick with their larger target, but he wanted to ask one more question. “Are both target ships heading for the asteroid field?”  
“Yes, sirsir.” The reply helped him immensely. He stared at the distant asteroid field they’d just picked up on their scanners and ordered confidently, “Stay with the larger ship, but note where the shuttle entersed the field.”  
“Aye, Captain.”

As the Enterprise had taken up the pursuit of Lannit’s ship, and as they soon detected the other vessels,. Will had immediately ordered an increase in speed. Now that they were so close to their quarry the tension on the bridge was palpable. “Can you identify our primary target?” hHe barked at the young officer.  
“Yes, Captain!” the lieutenant responded eagerly. “It and the smaller craft are the only ones emitting a meson trail, sirsir.”  
“Ready weapons. Target propulsion and...” Will’s orders were cut off as the lieutenant shouted, “Incoming! Target vessel has opened fire!”  
The Enterprise was already at red alert, but Will made sure the shields were at maximum strength. He then braced himself as the blasts hit the protective shielding. The ship staggered, causing Will to say angrily, “What the hell did that ship fire at us?” The tactical officer shook her head. “Unknown, sirsir. The computer’s attempting to analyse the...” The officer shook her head and shouted, “Brace for impact!”  
Three more times the Enterprise was badly shaken by weapons-fire from the fleeing ship. Will glared balefully at the viewscreen and said with barely subdued fury. “Have you acquired your targets, Lieutenant?” The young woman nodded, a savage grin on her face. “Yes, Captain!”

“Ok, phasers only to start with. Fire!”  
The bright orange high-energy beams lanced out from the great ship and splattered against the other ship. The vessel staggered, butstaggered but continued its flight. Will bared his teeth and barked. “Again! Fire phasers!” The signature audio acknowledgement of his order by the ship’s computer provided deep satisfaction. However, like before, the phaser hits had little impact on the fleeing ship.  
“Captain.” The lieutenant warned, “The target ship is almost at the asteroid field, sirsir ... the smaller vessel has already entered it.”  
“Shit!” Will murmured. “Full torpedo spread, photon, not quantum. Target the same areas. Fire!”   
Deanna stood beside her lover and said quietly, “Trying to wound them before they reach cover?”

Will snorted and allowed a quick, amused glance before saying sotto voce, “You watch far too many old westerns, Dee.”  
She smiled warmly; pleased she could provide Will a tiny bit of humour. “My vernacular may be dated, Will, but the observation remains.”   
Just then the tactical officer reported, “Two hits, Captain. Their shields are down to 15% and one of their three nacelles is inoperative.”  
“That’s good.” Deanna quickly supplied, quickly accessing her memories of masquerading as a Tal Shiar officer on a Romulan ship. “Pulsing singularity prolusion systems require all three nacelles to function together. If one is inoperative, the ship will be unable to achieve warp.” She tilted her head in thought. “In fact,” she mused, “Their entire power system would be compromised.”  
Will looked down at the petite woman, a deep frown on his face. “Are we looking at a possible annihilation?” He rolled his hand, looking for the right words. “Like a warp core breach?”  
“It’s possible, Will, but I don’t know for certain.”

“The target vessel has reached the asteroid field, Captain.” The lieutenant reported.  
Will scowled at the viewscreen and compressed his lips angrily. “If they power down completely in there it’s going to be a hell of a job to find them.”  
“Unless their propulsion system explodes.” Deanna said carefully.   
“Yeah.” Will agreed. “And if that happens, everything is lost, including our friends.”  
There was nothing Deanna could say to that. It was the simple, awful, devastating truth.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Jean-Luc to stay conscious. He was fighting hard, doing everything he could, but he knew he was losing the battle. With Beverly’s help he’d found the asteroid field and was within it, trying to find somewhere to hide. He would’ve liked to be able to scan the area, but there was something in the field that was hampering his instruments. He was even required to pilot the shuttle manually, as the onboard computer was unable to do the job safely. So, rather than risk collision and with it the possible injury to his family, he had no option but to fly the craft himself. 

Beverly made regular checks on him, but her time was taken by the children and Katya. The young woman had rallied somewhat after Jean-Luc had left the room and Twenth’s lifeless body bolstered her spirits, but she was still seriously mentally traumatised.  
Although Beverly was fairly confident that Katya posed no threat to the children, nor didas was Jean-Luc, she knew for shecertain, she was unwilling to endanger her family if she could help it.  
The sudden cessation of the engine vibration made Beverly gasp. Why had they powered down? sShe mused worriedly. Having fed and changed Elly, Beverly coaxed James into agreeing to watch over his dozing sister, but only under strict instructions that he call for his mother should he have any concerns. James, exhibiting remarkable maturity for one so young, nodded sagely as he sucked his thumb. Beverly left with lingering feelings of disquiet.  
She found her husband slumped forward, his head at an awkward angle half on the console and half off. Alarm skittered through Beverly as her beloved Jean-Luc appeared utterly lifeless, but her questing hand soon found a pulse in his carotid artery. It was weak though, and she knew they had to get help, and soon.

At the familiar touch of his wife’s fingers, Jean-Luc roused a little. Beverly eased him back, apologising when his still very sore back made contact with the back of the chair. She went down on one knee and asked quietly, “Why have you powered the shuttle down, Jean-Luc?”  
“Can’t fly any more ... can’t hold on to consciousness.”  
“Ok, stay with me just a little longer. Have you found a hiding place?”  
“Think so...”  
He took a breath, struggling against his greying vision. “Scanners don’t work. Something out there...” hHe flopped his hand weakly on his lap and Beverly understood.  
“Well, as long as any pursuing ships suffer the same problems, we should be fine.” She smiled at her husband but her smile quickly faded as she realisedrealised, he’d not heard her. He was unconscious. She made him comfortable in the chair and then left him where he was and returned to the aft cargo area.

Will scowled at the readout on the Commandcommand chair armrest console. What he saw caused him to rise and walk to the tactical station. The lieutenant there moved slightly aside and waited while her acting captain imputed some Commandcommands. He snorted at what he found. “So, not only are we too big to enter the field, but also our scanners are having problems with something out there?” he said as he waved his hand at the forward viewscreen screen, his face a study in tightly suppressed anger.  
“Yes, sirsir.” The young woman replied respectfully. “As yet the computer hasn’t identified what it is that’s causing the problemsDr.”  
Almost talking to himself, Will muttered, “And until it does, we’re effectively blind.” The lieutenant nodded, responding with a quiet, “Yes, sirsir.”  
“Then we have to find out what’s interfering with our scanners.” Will mused, his mind wrestling with the problem. “I take it we’vre excluded all the usual suspects?” he asked speculatively.   
That brought a smile to the lieutenant’s face. “Yes, sirsir.” sShe replied, with just a trace of amusement. It quickly vanished when Will sent her a hard look. “Sorry, sirsir.” sShe murmured, embarrassed and chastened. “The computer has eliminated all known causes of this kind of difficulty but hasn’t been able to identify the problem.”

Will nodded slowly, his irritation with the young woman already forgotten. “Ok, so if it’s not a known causal factor, then we have to get creative.”  
The lieutenant’s brow creased in confusion. “Creative, sirsir?”  
“Yes, Lieutenant, creative.” Will said with a mirthless smile. “I want you to narrow our scanners to their finest focus and go point-by-point through every item they encounter. Tell the computer to make a minute scan of each and every bit of rockthing that’s there. One way or another, we’ll single out whatever’s causing this ... blindness.”

“But sirsir,” the young woman asked tentatively, “How will that help? If the scanners have been rendered useless, then how ... Why?”  
Will smiled, but his expression was hard. “Oh, I freely admit, it’s a long shot, Lieutenant, but what I’m hoping is that the intensity of focus on a much smaller target area might provide a clue as to what’s causing the wider scans to fail.”  
He ignored the young woman’s reply as he stalked back to the Commandcommand chair. As he retook his seat, he glared at the viewscreen, the image of the asteroid field making him think sourly, “We’ll find you, you bastards, you can’t hide in thhere forever.”   
He settled in for a long wait.

Lannit watched the screen as his ship entered the asteroid field. He’d seen where the shuttle had entered and also knew where the Enterprise had been, but just like the other ships, as soon as his ship entered the field, his canners went offline. He ruminated darkly about this lack of vital awareness of his surroundings. He’d paid an exorbitant amount of latinum for several upgrades in key systems and it galled him to find that some of his precious latinum had been wasted. The asteroid he’d hidden his ship in had been separate from the field, close, but not actually part of the cluttered area of space.   
His scanners had operated perfectly whilst approaching, , and then entering the hollow celestial body, and he had no reason to think he’d encounter any problems with the field, not that he’d considered he’d have to seek refuge there, but with the amount of latinum he’d outlaid, to find his ship was blind angered him.

If he triumphed in the current situation, then he’d make sure those who he now felt had cheated him would pay dearly for their mistakes. A grin slowly grew on his face as he contemplated just how he’d mete out their punishments ... punishments they would most definitely not survive.  
“So,” he mused darkly. “Where are my saleable goods, Twenth? Where have you hidden, old friend?” he chuckled as he said that, imagining how Twenth would scream as he took revenge for the embarrassment and humiliation Twenth had caused him. He then stared into the middle distance, his face almost slack as his mind grappled with the realisation that Twenth, a being he’d always considered lacking in intelligence, had somehow managed to deceive him well enough to make off with his prizes.  
His eyes glittered as he thought coldly, “I’m going to kill you slowly and very painfully, Twenth, but not before I make it crystal clear just how very angry you’ve made me. I doubt you thought up this little plan by yourself,” Lannit thought arrogantly.  
“More likely you’ve been plotting with one of the bidders.” A new and delightful thought occurred to Lannit, making him bark out a harsh laugh. “I’ll enjoy making you tell me, Twenth, and then I’ll tell the viridian. Whoever you’ve colluded with, will die, Twenth, screaming in agony just like you.”

His violent thoughts had caused his cock to harden. He rubbed it through his trousers as he ordered his ship’s computer to begin a slow examination of every item they passed in the asteroid field. It didn’t matter how long it took, he possessed remarkable patience. Eventually he’d find his one-time friend, and when he did ... He sighed with happiness. Yes, Twenth would pay dearly for his impudence.

The viridian frowned as Lannit’s ship disappeared into the asteroid field. He’d not long concluded a lengthy discussion with the other buyers and a plan of sorts had been agreed on. Acknowledging that their ships all suffered the same limitations in being able to scan within the field, it had been decided that each ship would take up a position at the periphery of the field, essentially adopting sentry posts.   
Two ships occupied positions on either side of the field, and one at one end. That left one end unguarded, but as the ships within the field were blind, the chances that Lannit or the shuttle would exit the field at that point were slim. The Enterprise, however, was the wild card. She sat just outside the field, posing a significant threat. The broker felt confident he could talk his way out of trouble with the starship’s captain; after all, he’d not actually committed any crime ... yet ... but considering the Federation ship’s formidable weaponry and sheer size, he preferred to not have to engage it in hostilities.  
The viridian’s fingernails beat a devil’s tattoo on the armrest of his chair as he stared at his bridge’s viewscreen. So much was left to chance, he ruminated sourly. He abhorred uncertainty, it always created difficulty. He sighed expansively. One thing was certain, however. Lannit Yan was going to be made very aware of how displeased the broker was with this inconvenience he’d caused. Very aware indeed. Perhaps terminally.

Beverly had only been back to the cockpit twice since Jean-Luc had lost consciousness in the four hours that ensued. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, or that she wasn’t worried sick about him, but her lingering disquiet about Katya made it all but impossible for her to safely leave her children with the woman.   
Beverly’s hands were wrapped in cloth remnants taken from Twenth’s corpse, but blood still seeped through, making it difficult to tend to her children. James, still very withdrawn, demonstrated clearly that he wanted his mother to stay with him. If she so much as attempted to move too far from him, he made his feelings clear by rushing to her and hugging her leg to let her know she had to stay.  
Katya sat in the corner of the cargo bay, silently staring at nothing. She barely responded when spoken to and rejected any attempt at physical contact. Beverly would’ve liked to try and draw the woman out, but circumstances prevented her from even attempting it.

Katya’s mental state would have to wait until they could extricate themselves from their current situation. But of course, that meant that Beverly was stuck with caring for her children on her own while her husband sat insensate in the cockpit. Beverly had tried to ascertain where they were within the asteroid field, but with the scanners all but non-functional, all she could do was hope that Jean-Luc had found a secure place for them to hide.  
Her head suddenly snapped up as she heard a soft noise coming from the doorway. The door was slowly openingopening, and she could see the fingers of a hand gripping the edge. Knowing it could only be her husband; Beverly got to her feet and lifted James into her embrace. He clung on tightly with one arm and both legs wrapped around Beverly’s torso as he turned his head away from his father and sucked his thumb furiously.   
Beverly stepped a bit closer to the opening door and said tentatively, “I can’t help you, Jean-Luc. I’ve got James in my arms and he won’t let me put him down.”  
It was a half-truth, but Beverly wasn’t about to confess that she didn’t want to be too close to him while he was fully aware. She watched, her heart wrenching when she saw what a struggle it was for him to remain upright and mobile. He was barely shuffling, using the walls as support, the movements causing him obviously significant pain.   
Jean-Luc paused to rest and catch his breath before gesturing with his chin to his old spot by the far wall, near the aft hatch. Beverly nodded silently, and then watched with tears in her eyes as he slowly made his way around the periphery of the bay, unable to stand or walk without supporting himself with the walls.

When he finally reached his place, he slid down the wall and slumped on the floor. Beverly moved to sit near him, andhim and offered gentle words of sympathy. He eventually rallied enough to sit up, his tender back resting against the wall.   
Somehow, he dredged up a smile. “Well,” he said in a soft, husky whisper, “I think I’ve seen better days.”  
Beverly smiled sadly and nodded. “Yep, that’s pretty accurate.” She allowed a soft snort. “You’re not exactly at your peak.”  
His smile stayed in place for a moment, then faded. He tried to sigh, but it caused too much pain, so he grimaced instead. “I don’t think staying here is the right strategy for us.” hHe whispered.  
Beverly frowned and tilted her head as she asked, “Why?” sShe resettled James’s weight and added, “Any pursuing ships must be experiencing the same problems with their scanner as us. The mere fact we’ve not been found proves that.”  
“Agreed.” Jean-Luc said tiredly. “But it’s only a matter of time before we’re found.” He then lifted his eyes to look at his wife.   
Beverly couldn’t suppress her fear and lowered her gaze. She heard Jean-Luc sniff and knew he was weeping. He whispered her name, but Beverly couldn’t allow herself to lower her guard. She shattered the moment by saying briskly, “So what do we do?” her tone became sarcastic. “Play a game of blind cat and mouse?”

There several long seconds before Jean-Luc regained enough emotional control to reply. “More or less.”  
“That’s insane, Jean-Luc.” Beverly snapped. “Blundering around blind within an asteroid field, knowing we’re probably being pursued is crazy.” She grunted, then shook her head. “We’d be just as likely to hit an asteroid as a ship.”  
“Not if we use the deflectors.”

Beverly still-swollen eyes narrowed. “The deflectors?” she parroted. “They’d shift the smaller debris, but nothing that poses any real threat to us.”  
“We don’t need them to move the larger bodies; we can monitor the deflector beams and use them to move us.” He was tiring quickly, but he’d gained Beverly’s full attention.  
“They’d need to be pretty powerful, Jean-Luc.” sShe said doubtfully. “This is a moderatemoderately large size shuttle, but still...”  
“I’ve been conscious for a while.” Jean-Luc explained. “But I needed time to gather enough strength to make it into here.” He waved a hand to encompass the modest cargo bay. “While I sat in the cockpitcockpit, I made a thorough examination of the flight console and I discovered this vessel has undergone some retrofitting. It’s had recent upgrades to several systems including the deflector array.” He shifted slightly to try and ease his discomfort and winced as a new pain assailed him. Beverly waited until he was ready to resume talking.

“This shuttle is also well armed, at least for its size.” He swallowed, but then gripped his stomach as he heaved wretchedly. He brought up some bloody bile and had to pant raggedly to recover. On seeing the bloodstained bile, Beverly closed her eyes, causing her welling tears to slip free.   
She wanted to go to her suffering husband, to touch him, to comfort him, but she just couldn’t. Her fear was too great. She cuddled James instead, placing her cheek atop his head.  
Jean-Luc’s rough whisper caught her attention once again. “If I can make it back to the cockpit, and if I show you what I have in mind, do you think you can pilot this craft?”  
Beverly offered a small shrug. “I think I can pilot it, Jean-Luc, but until I know what it is I’m required to do otherwise, I can’t answer that.”  
He nodded and whispered, “Fair enough, but what I’m going to suggest isn’t difficult, however,but it will require intense, prolonged concentration.”  
“Ok.” Beverly replied and then But then added cautiously, “But you do realise I’ll have James and Elly with me?”  
Jean-Luc glanced over at Katya then back at his wife. Before he could even pose the question, Beverly was shaking her head. “Uh, uh.” sShe said. “There’s no way I’d leave the kids with her, Jean-Luc.” Beverly said emphatically. “She’s suffering a severe trauma-related mental breakdown. There’s no telling what she might do.”

Jean-Luc’s face fell, and tears welled in his eyes. When he said nothing, Beverly felt a stab of sympathy. “I think she may recover with the right kind of help. Me too, I suppose.” sShe offered, “And maybe you can care for Elly? James will probably be content to just sit on my lap. That’s all he seems to want to do anyway, he’s badly traumatised too.”  
The words were out of her mouth before she’d given them any thought. She realised what she’d said and tried to apologise, but it only made things worse, especially as it was somewhat insincere.  
Instead of protesting or allowing himself to slide into the devastating guilt he felt, Jean-Luc redirected his strength into his depleted muscles. Ignoring his wife, he somehow made to his feet where he spent several long moments gathering himself. He then made slow progress in shuffling around the walls to the still-open door and disappeared from sight.  
Beverly gained her feet, settled James on her hip and followed her husband, feeling worried about sharing the confines of the cockpit with him. She had to though. If they were to get out of the asteroid field and away from any pursuing ships, she had to at least try whatever he’d come up with.

Deanna was seated with Will on the sofa in the ready room. In her hands was a PADD and on its screen was an image of the asteroid field, butfield but marked specifically were the five ships that had taken up stationary positions either side and at one end of the field.  
“So, they’re just sitting there?” she asked, a deep frown marring her pale skin.   
“Yep.” Will replied.  
“And obviously they know we’re here.”   
“Yep, definitely.”

“Do we know if they’re making any attempts to search the field?”  
Will shook his head. “If they are, they’re using technology we’re not familiar, so I’d say it’s unlikely.”  
“So, they’re simply waiting?” Deanna sighed, her head shake making her long, curly hair dance.   
“Hoping might be closer to the mark, Dee.” Will remarked. “If they’re as blind as we are, and I think they are, then what they’re doing is hoping that if either ship makes a run for it, it’ll exit the field somewhere near one of their sentries.” He sighed and gestured to the PADD. “This asteroid field is quite different to what we know of this kind of celestial phenomena. For starters it’s not orbiting a star, that in itself makes it unique, and it’s particularly heavily populated with objects, both large and small. If the circumstances were different it’d be interesting to study it and find out how, why and when it was formed.”  
“But all we really want to know is why our scanners can’t see within it.” Deanna finished for Will. He nodded slowly but by the soft twinkle in his eyes, Deanna knew he had something interesting to impart. “About that.” He said with a trace of excitement. “I had an interesting thought occur to me, so I ordered a thorough re examinationre-examination of the scans we took of the asteroid the shuttle entered.”  
“The one we think was hiding a bigger ship?” Deanna asked for clarity.

“The very one.” Will concurred. “I recalled the tactical officer mentioning that there was a large quantity of mesons still evident within the asteroid and, at the time, I thought that made sense.” He elaborated, “The shuttle, leaving its trail of mesons enters and is docked inside a much larger vessel which in turn leaves and in doing so adds its mesons to the first lot.”  
Deanna nodded,nodded; her expression enthusiastic as she sensed Will’s growing excitement. “But it turns out we were only partially right.” His face split into a wide grin. “There were already mesons there that had nothing to do with either ship, and the existence of those mesons within the asteroid have led us to believe we’ve found the cause of our scanner problem.”  
“Can we overcome whatever it is?”

That question caused Will to frown. “The computer’s working on it, but so far it’s looking like we may soon be able to use the scanners in a limited fashion.”  
Deanna could tell her lover was disappointed in the computer’s failure to completely restore their ability to undertake full scans of the field, but she knew that even grudgingly, he was happy. Partial scans were certainly better than none at all.  
“When?” Deanna asked softly. Will rose and offered his hand to assist her as she too came to her feet. Will’s expression hardened. “I’m just waiting for confirmation that scanning won’t set off something unintended. We’re not exactly sure what the existence of the mesons within the asteroid means and the last thing we want to do is cause something we can’t control.”  
“Especially as our people are somewhere inside the field.”   
“Exactly.”

Will gestured to the doors and said lightly, “Care to wait on the bridge with me?”   
Deanna gave his question some thought and eventually shook her head. She saw his disappointment and strove to ease his hurt. “Some of the crew are struggling with the situation, Will. They don’t know why we’re doing what we’re doingdoing, and the lack of information has led some to come to worrying conclusions. My time would be best spent allying those fears and counselling the older officers so that they can reassure the younger ones.”  
“Fair enough, Dee.” Will offered an understanding smile. “I sometimes forget just what a vital role you play in the smooth running of the ship.” He placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “I’ll make sure I don’t forget in the future.”  
Deanna beamed up at the tall man and they left the ready room together.

“I think I get it.” Beverly murmured to her husband. “If I watch the status of the deflector beams carefully, should we encounter anything too big, or at the very least anything that has the mass to pose us problems, I recalibrate the deflector beams and use them to deflect us, then apply appropriate thrust to move us around whatever has caused the obstruction.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc replied wearily. “In effect, you’re balancing the deflector beams between deflecting and repulsing, but only to the point of slow navigation. What we want to avoid is a bouncing effect.” He gestured weakly at the viewscreen. “Of course, you can see the obstacles, but once we’re underway, physical sight won’t be enough. Should you overcompensate with the thrusters, we may begin to cannon from one asteroid to another. That would be difficult to bring under control and could prove fatal.”  
“No pressure then.” Beverly quipped, staring intently at the console screens. James shifted on her lap, turning his head, and sighing deeply. His rhythmic thumb sucking was lulling him, and Beverly hoped he would soon slip into sleep. Elly was lying on the deck beside her father and she was lightly wrapped in Twenth’s shirt, the bloodstained parts removed.  
Beverly rubbed her hands on the sides of her seat and took a deep breath. “Ok, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this bucket moving.”  
Jean-Luc nodded and turned his seat so he could input his Commandcommands. “Applying 3.5% % power to the thrusters, and then shutting them down. The inertia will carry us.”  
“Acknowledged.” Beverly responded quietly,quietly; her attention riveted to her screens.   
Seven minutes passed before she said tightly, “There’s a disruption in the beams!”  
“Allow the ship to be redirected and tell me when to apply thrusters.”

“Ok.”  
The shuttle’s course change was felt as it was navigated around a large misshapen asteroid. Once clear, Jean-Luc did his best to reorient the ship on her previous heading. It was pointless to proceed haphazardly with no actual course. It didn’t seem to matter in which direction they chose to make their way out, as long as it was not the same way they entered.

Lannit Yan was sitting on his bridge, his feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the edge of a console. He was dozing when an alarm chirruped. He came out of his chair in one fluid motion, his eyes searching for what he hoped was a positive contact. With a feral snarl he jabbed his finger at the console screen. “I see you, Twenth! I see you now...”   
The activation of the shuttle’s thrusters and deflector array together had made the craft give away her position. Lannit was about to enter the necessary Commandcommands to pilot his ship to that place when the little blip on the screen vanished. “No!” Lannit yelled, his fist pounding down on the console. “What the fuck are you doing, Twenth, you stupid lump of shit?”

He seethed with impotent fury. His ship was almost too large to safely navigate within the field and without the use of his scanners he dared not even try. He needed a positive lock on the shuttle in order to have any hope of getting to it.   
Once Jean-Luc had shut down the thrusters, the contact was lost, the deflector array alone not powerful enough to trigger any reaction from Lannit’s ship, especially with Beverly manipulating the beamsDr.  
Having calmed himself somewhat, Lannit sat sullenly, glaring at the screen, and was rewarded when the blip reappeared. He immediately saw it had changed position. It vanished as quickly as previously, but not before Lannit was able to get a fix. He’d watch carefully and, if he was able to get a few more fixes, he’d be able to plot the shuttle’s course, and should he do that, it’d be a simple task to leave the field and take up a position outside in order to greet his ex friendex-friend as the shuttle emerged.  
Lannit grinned wolfishly, almost salivating with anticipation. “I’d give almost anything to see your face as you exit the field only to see my ship ready and waiting.”   
He hunched forward and peered at the screen, waiting eagerly for the next contact.

Will stood beside the tactical officer and nodded with satisfaction. “Ok, so that intermittent contact is probably the shuttle and the other the large ship from the asteroid.”  
“Yes, Captain. Although our scanners are limited, the mesons both ships are emitting are a match with what we detected previously.”  
Will nodded slowly. “Any idea why the larger ship is emitting mesons while seemingly powered down?” hHe asked.  
“No, sirsir.” The female replied. “We can see that an active transponder is in operation on that ship, but as that has nothing to do with propulsion, I can’t give you any answers about the meson emission, sir.”  
“An active transponder?” Will remarked thoughtfully. “Whoever that is, they’re trying to locate the shuttle.”   
The younger officer nodded. “That’s my conclusion too, Captain.”

Raking his fingers through his beard, Will’s expression soured. “The intermittent nature of the shuttle’s appearances seems to suggest they’re underway and have found a way to safely navigate.” Will frowned in thought. “And if that’s so, then the large ship could, theoretically, trace their path.”  
The female shrugged. “Yes, sirsir.” She was taken aback by Will’s cold smile.   
“Then so can we.” He said quietly before redirecting his attention to the con. “Ensign Trigg,Ensign Trigg tie in with tactical and see if you can extrapolate a course for the intermittent contact. Once you have a course, send it to the helm. I want this ship to be wherever that contact looks like it’s going to exit the field.”  
There was a soft chorus of, “Aye, sirsir.” aAs Will settled in the Commandcommand chair. However, he was soon requested for a briefing in the observation lounge. As he took his seat at the head of the table, he nodded to those already present. Clive Browne, the senior officer of the small group, inclined his head respectfully. Sitting beside him was Breyz, a bolian fellow astrophysicist and Laria Col, a particle physicist. Will offered a perfunctory smile and said, “Report.”

Clive clasped his hands on the tabletop and focused his attention. “It’s about the asteroid field, Captain.” When he said nothing further, Will gave him a look that clearly said, “And?”

Clive received the message loud and clear. “It isn’t.” He then blushed slightly and elaborated. “It isn’t an asteroid field, Captain.”

Will nodded, saying with quiet patience, “I know that. Asteroid fields have to orbit a star, without that, gravity between the objects would make them all come together.”

“Exactly.” Breyz smiled widely, making Will feel like he’d just pleased his teacher. She sat forward and said excitedly, “Which is why we’re almost certain what we have here is a dumping ground.”

“A dumping ground.” Will repeated cautiously. 

“Yes.” Clive said, nodding with obvious excitement. “There is enough commonality in the debris, at least from what we’ve been able to scan, to suggest it all has a common origin, but for some reason, seems to have been brought here a very long time ago and ... well ... dumped.”

“Whether or not the debris is a result of a naturally occurring event, conflict or perhaps an experiment that went catastrophically wrong, we can’t say, but we feel whatever occurred is responsible for the concentration of mesons.” Laria took up the conversation. “We think this odd behaviour of the debris field, the way it simply hangs in space, is due to the mesons, but they themselves have been dramatically altered somehow. As you probably know,” 

Laria smiled a little too condescendingly for Will’s liking, but he refrained from commenting, “A meson is a hadronic subatomic particle, composed of one quark and one antiquark. They’re bound together by the strong attraction. They do have a physical size, being about 1.2 times the size of a proton or neutron. Mesons are unstable, though, Captain., Tthe longest-lived lasts only for a few hundredths of a microsecond. But there’s a difference in the way mesons decay, if the mesons are charged, they can form electrons or neutrinos, uncharged they form photons, but whatever they become is immaterial. Mesons aren’t supposed to be everlasting.”

“Then are they mesons?” Will asked, a deep frown on his face. “You said they’d been dramatically altered?”  
Laria shrugged. “They seem identical to all other mesons we’ve ever seen, Captain, but like so much about this debris field, their very existence flies in the face of established science.”  
“I see.” Will said, worry dogging his voice. “So, the celestial body the alien ship was inside. Was that part of the field, or is its existence just a coincidence?”  
The scientists looked at each other in confusion. “Alien ship?” Clive queried. Will lowered his head and let out a long breath. “Long story,Long story don’t worry about the details. I’m referring to the large asteroid, for want of a better term, which we scanned before we came to the debris field.”

“Oh, yes, that.” Clive said awkwardly. “You must forgive us, Captain, we tend to not notice the extraneous details, such is our focus on the science.” He smiled apologetically. “But as for that celestial body, I’d say it was part of the debris field, simply by the mesons present, but for some reason, it’d been separated from the rest.”  
“A collision, perhaps.” Added Breyz.   
“But the unique qualities of the mesons may be responsible for keeping it nearby.” Laria opined quietly. “Maybe some kind of perpetual attraction?” she added. Clive and Breyz nodded, ready and willing to enter into a deep conversation about it, but Will was ready to move on.  
“Ok.” He smiled. “We’re not in a position to make any further studies of the field ... or the asteroid thing, but I’ll report all this to StarfleetStarfleet. If they want to send a designated ship to study these phenomena, that’ll be their call. For now, thank you for your input, you’re dismissed.”  
The scientists rose and left the lounge, already deep in conversation. Will shook his head and returned to the bridge. He’d just arrived there when tactical announced, “A vessel is approaching, Captain. And the sentry ship near where it’s likely we’ll be taking a position is moving off.”  
Will focused his attention on the forward viewscreen and barked, “Let’s see it, Lieutenant.”   
He scowled and pursed his lips. “Can we identify them?”  
“Yes, sirsir. They are the same ships we encountered before; the one heading towards us is the same one that we’ve been following since the large asteroid.”  
There was a long silence, broken when the lieutenant asked cautiously, “Shall I hail them, Captain?”  
“Are their shields up?” hHe asked. “Are their weapons online?”  
“No, Captain.”  
“Then, no, don’t hail them.” Will growled. “Let’s see what they’re going to do, but watch them like a hawk, Lieutenant.”  
“Aye, sirsir.”  
Mere minutes later the alien ship abruptly changed course and re enteredre-entered the debris field.

Beverly was exhausted. Their passage through the asteroid field had been in progress for two hours and, in her weakened state, the fierce concentration required to avoid collision had drained her stamina to the point that she was beginning to experience vision disturbances.   
Elly had woken thirty minutes before, and Jean-Luc had managed to feed and change her. She was now cradled in his left arm as he used his right hand to operate the thrusters, as necessary. James had fallen asleep and was beginning to become restless. Beverly surmised he probably had a full bladder.  
“Jean-Luc,” Beverly said quietly, her eyes never leaving the screen. “I can’t do this for too much longer.”  
He glanced at his wife and nodded. “Me neither.” hHe said. “I don’t know how big this asteroid field is, or even if we’re going in the right direction for the shortest passage through it, but if you need to rest, do so. We can power down and wait until we’re both stronger, then resume.”

Beverly nodded and offered a wry smile. Jean-Luc could only see her face in profile, but he was so familiar with his wife’s features he knew what expression was on her face.   
“Not exactly how we thought our holiday would go.” sShe remarked sadly.  
Pleased at seeming to have the opportunity to talk about it, Jean-Luc nodded. “Indeed.” hHe said it quietly, his voice still very rough and husky. “There’s so much that went disastrously wrong.”  
“Hmm.” Beverly replied, her tone bland. “Of course, some things were a result of plain old bad decision making.”  
Jean-Luc frowned, not sure if she was blaming him for their predicament or not. “Perhaps,” he responded cautiously. “But let’s not lose sight of the fact that most of our difficulties stem from once source and one source only. Lannit Yan and Twenth.”  
“Difficulties?” Beverly said bitterly. “How quaint, how sanitised, how ... you.”

Jean-Luc was very weak and not up to any sort of robust discussion, but it hurt him deeply to realise his beloved wife seemed to hate him so much. She was obviously furious with him. The trouble was he agreed with her, in fact he shared the fury. He hated himself. “I’m so sorry.” hHe whispered brokenly, tears forming in his eyes. “If I could’ve stopped...”  
“Shut up!” Beverly hissed venomously. “Just shut your mouth, Jean-Luc. I don’t want to hear it!”  
Her outburst woke James, and he began to cry. Beverly rose abruptly and staggered a little as exhaustion and weakness nearly robbed her of her balance. “Power down, I’m done!” she snapped before attempting to console James. “Come on, tiger, I’ll take you to the toilet. I bet you want to pee.”

She was gone from the cockpit so quickly Jean-Luc gaped. As if in a daze he powered the shuttle down and stared morosely at the view outside the craft. He didn’t see it at first, but after blinking a few times and struggling to put his heartache aside, he finally made sense of what he was seeing.  
He too rose quickly, but unlike Beverly he had no hope of maintaining his balance. He toppled sideways, butsideways but managed to fall in such a way as to protect his daughter. UnfortunatelyUnfortunately, he struck his head on the arm rest of Beverly’s chair, splitting the skin of his eyebrow and knocking him senseless.   
Beverly heard the thump of his fall and called out, “Jean-Luc?” Elly began to wail, and Beverly urged James to hurry. He did, but his crying increased. Unwilling to wait any longer, Beverly suddenly scooped him into her arms and hurried from the sanitary unit, leaving a thin trail of James’s urine across the deck. She found her husband just beginning to regain consciousness.   
Beverly set James down beside her as she squatted and took Elly into her armsDr. She heard Jean-Luc trying to say something, but when she tried to dismiss him, he grabbed her hand. She let out a gasp of alarm and slapped the side of his face in fright. He persevered, however, and managed to make her hear. “Alien ship.” hHe croaked, and then pointed up at the viewscreen.  
“What?” Beverly said in confusion.

He repeated, “A ship.” Then added, “Outside...” His eyelids fluttered as he struggled to stay conscious. Again, he lifted his trembling hand and pointed to the forward viewscreen. Beverly rose unsteadily and peered into the blackness of space, littered within her view with the detritus of whatever had created the field.  
It took several long minutes before Beverly gasped, and her eyes widened considerably. “I see it!” She said fearfully. “I see the alien ship, Jean-Luc!”  
“Keep shuttle quiet as possible.” He said just as he lost his battle and slipped into unconsciousness. Beverly didn’t need to be told twice. She quickly renewed her efforts to calm her children.

Lannit’s eyes narrowed as he watched the StarfleetStarfleet vessel take up a position precisely where he’d intended to place his ship. He’d sneered derisively as he’d observed the sentry ship, which had taken up a position very near the place now occupied by the Enterprise, move off, giving the powerful Federation ship a wide berth.  
But as scathing as he was of both the sentry ship and the StarfleetStarfleet vessel, he was not so foolish as to imagine it would be beneficial to engage them in battle. So, he demonstrated just enough bravado to make his point, and then moved within the field, once again becoming invisible ... or so he thought. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, whether or not to simply sit, hidden in the field to see if the Enterprise captain had the patience to out-wait him, or to cut his losses and leave the area altogether.  
He hated the thought of Twenth avoiding what he felt was a very deserved death at his hands, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that no matter who ended up with Twenth and the captives, Twenth would find himself in a very precarious situation. At the very least he’d be tried, convictedconvicted, and incarcerated by the Federation. The broker, on the other hand, would simply kill him and take the captives.

No, thought Lannit. I probably won’t get the chance to deal with Twenth as I’d wish, but he will pay, one way or another. Lannit sat back and idly scratched his face while ruminating on his situation. He eventually decided to wait for five hours. If turned out he couldn’t locate the shuttle, or if it emerged from the field and was taken by the StarfleetStarfleet ship or the one of the sentries, he’d cut his losses and leave.   
After all, he smiled to himself. I still have Picard’s semen. I’ll acquire some compatible females to breed with and start again. The offspring may not fetch as much as their father, but they would bring a relatively good price, and their existence would provide plenty of scope to goad him into something by threatening his progeny. Who knows? That might present an opportunity to recapture him.   
Once again propping his crossed ankles on the console, he ordered the computer to wake him at the appointed hour and settled in to doze.

Once she had Elly quietly sucking on a bottle, Beverly managed to calm James. He still sniffled, but was sitting beside her, thumb stuffed in his mouth and, thankfully, otherwise quiet. Beverly suddenly gasped as Katya appeared in the cockpit, causing Elly to stop sucking and begin to grizzle. Fortunately, Beverly was able to settle her quickly. The doctor looked up from her seat and summoned a wary smile. “Katya.” sShe said mildly. “How do you feel?”  
“Ok.” She replied distractedly. She stared at the cockpit surrounds and shook her head. “What’s happening?” she asked quietly.   
Beverly was very pleased to see that the young woman was taking an interest in her surroundings. She felt it was a positive sign and evidence that she was beginning to emerge from her mental retreat.  
Gesturing to the viewscreen, Beverly lowered her voice to a whisper and said, “There’s an alien ship close by, we’ve powered down and are doing our best to stay silent.”  
Katya acknowledged the information with a nod, and then whispered, “Twenth is dead.”  
Beverly glanced at James, but he didn’t seem to be listening. She agreed with a nod and said, “Yes, it happened some time ago.”

Katya’s eyes slid to Jean-Luc, still lying on the deck. She gestured with her chin. “Did he do it?”  
“No.”  
That made Katya frown. “Did I do it?” she asked softly.  
“No.”  
Their eyes met and held. “Then you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good.” Katya said quietly, but firmly. Then more quietly, in fact barely audibly, “Yes, that’s good.”  
She seemed to gather herself as she took a deep breath. “So, what now? I take it Lannit Yan isn’t here?”  
“No.” Beverly replied, “But he may be on that ship.”  
“And that’s why we’re doing the whole hide and be silent thing?”  
“Yes.”

Elly had finished her bottle and, as Beverly lifted her to her shoulder, Katya held out her arms, saying gently, “I’ll burp her.”  
Beverly hesitated only a second or two before she smiled and offered the baby to the younger woman. The smile that graced Beverly face was a tender one as she watched Katya hold Elly to her chest and begin to gently pat and rub her back as she rocked on her feet.  
Now free of her daughter, Beverly took time to check on James. He was sleepy again, which worried the doctor, but under the circumstances was seen as an advantage. Next, she checked on Jean-Luc. He eventually responded to her persistent, soft summons, turning his head, and cracking open his eyes.  
“Beverly?” he rasped.   
“Yes, it’s me.” sShe replied gently. “Do you remember what happened?” she asked.   
He was silent so long Beverly feared he had passed out again, but he swallowed, grimaced, and answered, “Yes. There was an alien ship.” He tried to sigh and failed. “Is it still there?”  
“Yes.”  
“Damn.” Was all he said for a while. Beverly wanted to ask him if he had any more ideas about getting away, but she was loath to tax him too much. Her anger had subsided and, as he posed absolutely no threat in his present state, she was willing to sit close to him and offer support.

“I’ve searched the ship, Jean-Luc. Lannit must’ve taken his medkit with him; otherwise I’d have tried to treat you.”  
Beverly heard the derisive snort from Katya but ignored it.   
If Jean-Luc heard it, he too chose to not react. “It’s all right, Beverly.” hHe replied in a husky whisper. “I’ll manage.”  
What Jean-Luc said next made Beverly debate whether or not he was a mind reader. “There might be a way of moving this vessel without alerting the alien ship. At least not immediately.”  
“Ok, how?” Beverly asked, suddenly very interested. Jean-Luc shifted on the floor trying and failing to ease his pain. “First I need to know what sort of propulsion system this vessel uses.”  
It was Katya who answered that. “It’s a pulsing singularity.”  
Beverly looked over her shoulder and frowned. “And you know that how?”  
Katya almost rolled her eyes, and her tone was sarcastic. “I’m a warp dynamics specialist, remember?”  
“Using matter, antimatter engines.” Beverly snapped, but quietly, causing Katya to glare and snap waspishly, “I wouldn’t be much use as a WD specialist if I wasn’t at least familiar with the other propulsion systems used to achieve warp, now would I?”  
Jean-Luc held one hand to forestall any further conflict. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s concentrate on the problem at hand.”  
Both women looked at Jean-Luc, but only Beverly’s eyes held agreement. Katya’s held nothing but hate. Jean-Luc ignored her blatant aggression and continued. “All right, if that’s the case, then am I right in suggesting that we can manipulate the output to create a touch and go warp?”

“A Picard manoeuvre?” Beverly whispered excitedly.  
It was Katya again who interrupted. “Sort of.” She then directed her next question at Jean-Luc. “But we can’t attempt that unless we have a good idea of how far we have to jump.”  
Jean-Luc gestured to the distant alien ship, just visible in the debris. “I’d wager that ship is here because it was able to extrapolate our course by logging each time our thrusters were used.”   
“Yes,” Beverly nodded. “As simple as joining the dots.” She surmised.  
“Indeed.” Jean-Luc agreed. “And if that’s the case, even though there are many unknown factors in play, I still feel, given the time frame, that the vessel out there hasn’t come too far, and that may indicate the edge of the field isn’t far away.”  
Katya’s sneer marred her features. “But we still don’t know in which direction to jump! And besides,” she said almost triumphantly, “That ship could’ve come from anywhere, including from within the field.”  
“Agreed.” Jean-Luc inclined his head. “But I do think it’s come from outside.” He slowly climbed to his feet, slumped into a seat, and peered at the ship and thenbefore offeringed a small, one shoulder shrug. “Look at it, it’s quite large. If they’re experiencing the same scanner deficiencies as we are, then it’d be extrememlyextremely difficult and dangerous to navigate a ship that big size through the debris field.”  
She didn’t like agreeing with him, but she had to, his logic was sound. It didn’t help when Beverly added, “And if they did have working scanners, even partially functioning ones, we’d have been recaptured by now.”  
Katya sent Beverly a cold look, then shrugged, saying peevishly, “That still doesn’t give us any idea which direction to jump.”  
Jean-Luc tried to offer a placating smile, but Katya simply glared at him. Undaunted, he pressed on. “It may be quite simple to determine that.”  
“How?” Asked Beverly. 

Once again, Jean-Luc turned his attention to the other ship. “Perhaps we simply set a course that would take our jump in the opposite direction to the way that ship has stoppedheaved to.” He gestured weakly with his hand. “We go over their bow and jump astern of them.”  
“And in the process collide with who knows how many lumps of rock above, below or ahead of us.” She Katya sneered derisively. “You’re fucking insane, Picard.”  
Beverly’s eyes flashed angrily. “How dare you speak to him like that?” she snapped quietly, trying to keep her voice down. “You will show the captain respect, Ensign!”  
“How dare I?” Katya spat with obvious fury. “I dare because he raped me! Repeatedly! How dare you even think I should show him respect? The only thing I’m going to show him is contempt!” she took a menacing step forward, seething with fury. Beverly quickly reached over and took Elly. “And well deservedwell-deserved hatred!” Katya finished.  
James climbed to his feet and stood watching the younger woman with wide eyes. What he said was so purely innocent it brought tears to Beverly’s eyes as she cradled his sister protectively. “Sing, Katya.” He whispered around his thumb. “Sing. It makes you feel all better.”

Katya’s eyes fell to the little boy and she abruptly sat on the floor. In a remarkable display of kindness, James went and sat on her lap, then raised his hand to her cheek. He said nothing more, but Katya began to weep quietly. The deadly moment passed.  
Beverly glanced at her husband to see him bent forward, his face in his hands as he too wept. She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling him flinch. She didn’t say anything about what Katya had said, there was nothing she could say to comfort anyone at that point, so instead she said, “Help me input the Commandcommands for the jump, Jean-Luc. Win or lose, we don’t have much choice.”  
He slowly raised his head and, after wiping his eyes, helped Beverly to input the correct Commandcommands. He lifted his hand to his wife; his expressive eyes saying what he could not. She smiled sadly and took his hand, saying softly, “Fingers crossed.”  
“For our continued existence?” hHe wondered silently, “or our relationship?” He was still looking into her eyes when he pressed the activation tab, his questions unanswered as the shuttle simply disappeared.  
The flash of light alerted Lannit and he was half way out of his seat when the unexpected after effects of the shuttle’s jump hit his ship.

“Captain!” the tactical officer all but shouted. “We’re picking up a ship ... no, wait ... two ships, sirsir, both within the field.”   
Will was on his feet in seconds. “Life signs?”  
“Difficult to determine, sirsir. We are receiving some bio signs, but the information is incomplete ... our scanners haven’t enough discrimination to give a definitive result. All I can tell you is that there we’re getting bio signs on both ships.”  
“Can you identify the ships?” Will barked.   
“I think so, sirsir ... wait a moment, please...” The lieutenant said. He then nodded with satisfaction. “Yes, I have them, sirsir. They are the two ships we’ve been tracking, one much smaller than the other.”  
“Right!” Will’s hands flexed as he made his next call. “Riker to engineering.”  
“LaForge here, Captain.”  
“Geordi, can we beam through the debris field?”  
“Not unless I make some adjustments to some key systems, sirsir.”  
“Do it, and make it fast!”  
“Aye, Captain.”  
Will was about to issue some more Commandcommands when the tactical officer blurted, “SirSir! One of the ships has warp-jumped!”  
Will spun around, his eyes blazing. “Which one?” he shouted.  
“The smaller of the two!” The young man replied.  
“Transported room!” Will said curtly. “Get a lock on any life forms on the ship that just warp-jumped, then wait for my Commandcommands to beam off any life signs you have.” Will continue brusquely. He then redirected his focus. “Geordi, how’re the readjustments going?”  
“Nearly there...”

The concussive blast that hit the shuttle lifted it up and forward in a graceful arc, but it caused the craft to tumble wildly in its trajectory. The inertial dampeners tried to compensate, and succeeded at first, but ultimately failed, though fortunately not before the massive acceleration to warp was achieved.

The occupants were pressed against the walls, unable to move, thus saving them from a grisly death. Everything in the shuttle’s path was shoved violently aside, affording a miraculously clear path for the little ship. The warp jump was only programmed to cross 5,000 kms of space, but with the ship’s systems offline, the inertia the blast caused would’ve carried it endlessly until someone or something stopped it, but that wasn’t going to be the shuttle’s passengers. They were all unconscious.  
Lannit’s ship was heaved up, bow over stern, following the smaller ship, but on a different trajectory. Because the shuttle had actually achieved warp, it was travelling much faster than the larger ship, which was being carried by the blast front, and had left the field before Lannit’s. The same clearing effect allowed Lannit’s ship to exit the field unscathed and, like the shuttle, his ship continued on its path, Lannit in the same unconscious state as the others.  
Will had flinched as the blast registered, a split second after the tactical officer had reported the warp jump, both on their instruments and with their eyes as a brilliant flash seared their vision. He had enough time to shout, “Brace for impact!” Before the blast radius hit them. The Enterprise somehow managed to keep an even keel, but she was shoved violently backwards. Fortunately, her inertial dampeners functioned as they should and there were no reported injuries.  
Casting his eyes around the bridge, Will made sure everyone was all right. He then set his eyes on the tactical officer. “What the hell was that?” he asked, all the while terrified that the blast was evidence of the destruction of one or both of the ships in the field.   
The young man at the tactical station shook his head. “I don’t know what it was, Captain, but I can tell you it wasn’t anything to do with the ships that we were scanning. Both of them seemed to have been blown free of the field and are at present travelling away from it.”

“Damaged?” Will asked, his heart racing.  
“Not that we can detect, sirsir. The smaller ship, the one that made the warp jump is still travelling at warp 2, sirsir, but the larger ship is travelling at sub-warp speed. Both ships seem to be uncontrolled and are on different trajectories.”  
“Uncontrolled?” Will frowned. “Explain.”  
The lieutenant rolled his hand as he spoke. “They’re tumbling, sirsir.”  
Will wheeled around quickly and made a crucial decision before he barked out his orders. “Helm,Helm, pursue the smaller craft. Once we catch up, con, I want you to snare it with our tractor beams and get it into a shuttle bay.” He then lifted his head, calling, “Riker to sickbay.”  
The reply was unruffled, crisp, and clinical.   
“Selar, here, Captain.”  
“You may be receiving patients soon, be prepared.”  
“I have been monitoring the situation, Captain. Sickbay is ready.”  
“Acknowledged, Riker out.”

The Enterprise rotated quickly and made her own jump to warp. She caught up with the shuttle very quickly and, as the bridge crew watched tensely, the forward tractor bean lanced out from the great ship and engulfed the tumbling shuttle. Its uncontrolled somersaulting was gently eased until it was once again static and, once that was achieved, was slowly guided into a shuttle bay.   
By now waiting in that bay, Will watched with impatience as the shuttle settled onto the deck. As per his orders, five security personnel gathered at the aft and side hatches, their phasers drawn. Accessing the exterior safety release, the aft hatch was activated. It opened slowly and the security detail entered into the dark interior cautiously. The medical team stood by, awaiting their summons. They moved with well-oiled efficiency when that call was made, entering the shuttle, and disappearing from Will’s sight.   
The security chief came out of the shuttle and reported directly to Will. “There are six people, sirsir, five living and one deceased.” Before Will could ask, the female replied, “The living occupants are Captain Picard, Doctor Picard, their two children and Ensign Kurnov.”

Will tried to hide any outward evidence his profound relief but he simply couldn’t, his joy and gratitude at finding his friends alive almost overwhelming him. His eyes closed and his head bowed as he struggled to keep control of his powerful emotions. The security chief saw what was happening and moved away, quietly telling everyone to give their acting captain a moment or two to compose himself. Meanwhile the shuttle’s occupants had been loaded onto gravibeds and taken to sickbay, all except Jean-Luc. His life signs were alarmingly weak, necessitating he be beamed straight to the medical facility.

After Will had calmed he wasted no time in heading for sickbay for what he knew would be a lengthy wait. As he travelled through the ship he was contacted by the bridge. It was the tactical officer. “Captain Riker, the sentry ships have left the debris field and one of them is in pursuit of the larger ship that was blown out of the field.”  
“Set a course to intercept both of those ships, Lieutenant, and engage at whatever speed is required to overhaul them.”  
“Aye, sirsir.”  
Will’s large form entered sickbay quicklyquickly, but he came to an abrupt halt as he saw Deanna standing beside James, who was laying on a biobed. Swallowing his growing anxiety, Will approached quietly, and stood beside Deanna, watching James as she did.  
“How is he?” Will murmured.  
Deanna sighed and gently stroked James’s hair. “He’s been through quite an ordeal, Will, they all have.” She glanced up at her lover and answered his unasked question. “As far as I know, Beverly, the children and Ensign Kurnov will recover relatively quickly, at least from their physical injuries.”  
“And the captain?”

“Unknown at this time. He was taken into surgery so quickly I didn’t have a chance to speak to Selar. I do know his life signs were very weak though.”  
Their conversation was interrupted with another call from the bridge. Will moved away to a quieter spot. “Captain,” the tactical officer said, “the ship that was pursuing the one we’d been tracking has increased speed to warp 9.7. Do you wish us to maintain our pursuit?”  
Will swore vehemently under his breath before asking, “What about the other sentry ships? What are they doing?”  
“They’ve moved off as a group, sirsir, travelling at warp 6, destination unknown.”  
“Keep an eye on those ships, butships but increase our speed to warp 9.8.” Will’s fists flexed and his jaw clenched.  
“Aye, sirsir.”  
He went back to Deanna to continue their vigil.

Lannit knew even before his eyes opened that he wasn’t on his ship. He decided to feign ongoing unconsciousness while he tried to figure out where he was. UnfortunatelyUnfortunately, the quiet chiming of a medical alert derailed his ploy. A strong hand gripped his shoulder and the voice that spoke almost caused Lannit to lose control of his bowel.  
“My ship’s medical equipment says you’re awake, Lannit Yan. Open your eyes.” 

He obeyed, butobeyed but squinted in the bright light of the overhead fixture. He tried to smile, butsmile, failinged miserably. He was terrified, and it showed.  
The broker looked down with an unreadable expression on his face. He held up a small container. “This was in your hand, Lannit. What is the fluid inside it?”  
Even though he was terror stricken, Lannit Yan’s brain was still capable of working quickly. “It’s nothing of importance; it’s ah ... just a lotion I use on my skin.”

As a smile crept across the viridian’s face he parroted, “A lotion you use on your skin?” It was obvious he was trying to contain his amusement, butamusement but lurking in the depths of his cold eyes was anger. “Why would you lie to me, Lannit Yan?” he asked rhetorically. “You must know this...” he gestured to the container, “has already been analysed.” He then snorted and leaned closer to the now trembling Lannit. “Are you going to tell me that you use human semen as a skin lotion?”  
Despite his great fear, Lannit briefly considered continuing his lie, but decided there was no point. He swallowed to wet his dry mouth and shook his head. “No.” hHe whispered.  
The broker stared at the container, tilting it, and watching as the fluid inside moved. “I take it this is Picard’s?” he asked quietly.  
“Yes.” Lannit replied softly, his own eyes watching the container with regret as he saw his dreamt-of wealth vanishing.

The broker sighed and offered a one shoulder shrug. “I would really enjoy killing you, Lannit Yan, but my employer has other ideas.” He grinned down into Lannit’s shocked face. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll never get the chance to kill you. It simply means I have to wait and see.”  
His intense gaze was so frightening that Lannit wet himself. “One mistake, Lannit Yan, one minuscule error of judgement on your part and I’ll be rewarded by being permitted to take your worthless life in any way I choose. And bear this in mind, Lannit Yan. I don’t like being denied my pleasures, the longer I have to wait, the more ... creative my methods of death are.”   
Tears trickled down Lannit’s face and it shocked him to feel it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried ... if indeed he ever had. He didn’t speak; his voice wouldn’t have worked if he’d tried. The broker was used to this kind of reaction and smiled coldly.  
“Believe it or not, my employer has decided to use your ... expertise ... to utilise this,” he proffered the container, “to create offspring, and he has a list of species to source the brood females from.”  
Lannit’s nod was slow in coming, but his brain was already kicking back into gear. 

“Once we have the required number of offspring,” the broker continued, “you will lay a trap for Picard, using his progeny as bait.” The viridian said, his gaze steady.  
Lannit couldn’t believe his luck. His life had been spared and he was being given the opportunity to carry out his own original plan. “Surely,.” hHe thought silently, “surely I’ll be able to find a way to rid myself of this henchman and his employer and carry out this plan on my own? It’s only fair, after all. If I have to do all the work, and considering I thought of it first anyway, then it should be me who gains all the rewards.”  
The broker watched silently as these thoughts raced through Lannit’s mind. He was well aware of what was going on, he’d seen it many times before. He sighed, giving a small shake of his head. Lannit had completely forgotten his warning, such was his greed. Still, the broker shrugged, it didn’t matter to him.  
If Lannit was so foolish as to ignore the warning, he’d soon be dead, but the plan would still go ahead. There were plenty like Lannit to be found ... if you knew where to look.

Beverly had received her initial treatment and was sitting on a biobed in Jean-Luc’s private room in sickbay. Three hours had passedpassed, and her husband was just being transferred into his own bed, still unconscious. Will and Deanna stood either side of her bed as James, now with the painted-on design washed off his torso, and Elly slept beside her. Katya was asleep on a biobed in the main part of the facility.  
Selar, hands clasped in front of her, raised one perfect eyebrow and said, “I am ready to give my report, Doctor Picard.” She then glanced at Will and Deanna. “Would you like some privacy?”  
Beverly smiled wanly and shook her head. “No, it’s all right, they can stay.”

“Very well.” Selar demurred. “I will begin with you. Generally, you are in a weakened state. You have had insufficient nutrition and were suffering from mild dehydration. You had some mid-range facial trauma, several deep lacerations in your right hand and some serious internal damage of an intimate nature. There are residual traces of unknown drugs in your system and I have found evidence of multiple tumours throughout your body, including your brain.  
“Although they seem to be almost eradicated, the surrounding tissue at all of the tumour sites is showing anomalous cellular changes. I will have to do more tests and analyses before I can make a definitive diagnosis for this condition, though it is most likely to be linked to your hormonal imbalance which also seems to have been rectified.” She took a moment to reorder her thoughts. 

“There appears to be some mild nerve damage in your left hand and leg, I would speculate that is due to the brain tumours. I have repaired most of your injuries, but you will require regeneration therapy for some time to come. It is difficult to offer a firm prognosis, as I have much to do yet with regards to analyses and diagnoses, but I am guardedly optimistic about your future health.”  
Beverly smiled, but was impatient to hear about her children and husband. Selar knew this and continued without interruption. “Your daughter is in relatively good health. She seems to have suffered little if any physical trauma. Your son had suffered a minor facial trauma, buttrauma but was exhibiting similar deficiencies as you had in nutrition and hydration. These things have been rectified.” Selar became a little reticent, but then went on with her report. “Ensign Kurnov has suffered severe facial trauma and serious internal injuries of an intimate nature. Like you, Doctor Picard, she too has residual traces of unknown drugs in her system. I have repaired her injuries and she will be scheduled for regen therapy as well.”

Selar now turned her attention to her captain. “Captain Picard’s injuries were severe and numerous, so numerous in fact, that I will confine myself to the most serious and leave the rest for you to read in his file.  
“He had a skull fracture, five right side broken fractured ribs, three left side. His pelvis was fractured; his right kidney was so severely bruised it was barely functioning. He had small tears in both his spleen and liver. The skin and several layers of subcutaneous tissue and down to the muscle tissue of his back, from his shoulders down to mid thighmid-thigh show evidence of severe trauma.”   
She paused and a rare frown marred her smooth facial skin. “He has lost a great deal of blood and has severe internal injuries of an intimate nature, and he too has the residue of unknown drugs in his system, but from what we know so far, some of these drugs differ from the ones I found in yours and Ensign Kurnov’s systems, Dr.”  
Beverly’s face had paled, yet anger burned brightly in her eyes. When Selar asked for any information that might identify the drugs, Beverly gritted her teeth and fisted her hands. It was a struggle to remain in control of herself. “I don’t know specifically what drugs were administered to Captain Picard, but I am certain he was indeed drugged.” She took a steadying breath and continued, “Judging by his behaviour and lack of self-control, at least one of the drugs administered to him had to have been a sexual stimulant ... an exceptionally very potentwerful one.”  
Will shifted his feet, embarrassed for his friend, and like her, incredibly angry. Deanna surreptitiously placed her hand in his and he calmed.   
Selar nodded and remained silent, knowing her boss would continue. “As for Ensign Kurnov and me, I’m aware we were given some kind of sedative and, later, fertility drugs.”

Selar’s eyebrow rose to an impressive height. “That would account for the final part of my report.” sShe said cryptically.   
Beverly’s eyes narrowed as she said warily, “And that is?”  
Selar remained calm, but her expression was guarded. “Both you and Ensign Kurnov are pregnant.”  
At first all Beverly could do was shake her head, her mouth agape and her expression stunned. Deanna moved to her friend and took one of her hands. Eventually Beverly found her voice. “No.” Was all she said at first, but as the shock began to pass, her protests became more forceful. “NO!” she said loudly. “That’s not possible. The hormone imbalance ... the tumours ... No, I can’t be pregnant, you’ve made a mistake.”  
Selar leant her hip against Beverly’s biobed and watched her patient carefully. “There’s more, Doctor.” sShe said quietly, before sending Deanna a meaningful look. Suitably warned, Deanna moved even closer to her friend. “You are carrying multiple embryos, as is Ensign Kurnov. You have conceived three, the ensign, five.”

Reduced to whispering, Beverly shook her head again as tears coursed down her face. “No.” sShe breathed, as if saying the word would make it so. Selar bowed her head momentarily and sighed. “None of the embryos are viable, Doctor Picard. I expect your body will spontaneously abort them within the next ten to fourteen days.”  
That seemed to reach Beverly. She looked up in confusion. “Why don’t you just give me the standard drug treatment? It’d be over in less than half an hour.”  
“Because,” Selar said patiently, “With all your body has gone through during your ordeal, I am not willing to subject it to any extra stress by introducing yet another drug. It may sound uncaring, Doctor Picard, but I am doing you a kindness by advocating this course of action.” 

The well trained and vastly experienced doctor in Beverly understood and agreed with Selar’s opinion, but the traumatised and violated woman railed against it. “Course of action?” she spat. “More like inaction! After all I’ve been through, you’re telling me I now have to wait until my body expels the defective embryos? That you’re are refusing to do what you should to remove the evidence of themy multiple rapes I endured??!”  
That was the first time Beverly had said those particular words out loud. She gasped, a hand rising to cover her mouth. Deanna wrapped one arm around her best friend and said quietly, “Beverly, Selar knows what she’s doing. You’ll receive the best of care here on the Enterprise, among family and friends. We’ll support you and the captain ... and the Eensign Kurnov, of course.”  
“I don’t believe this!” Beverly hissed, glaring at the petite woman beside her. “Instead of helping me you choose to trot out all your tried-and-true clichés? How dare you?”  
Deanna showed no sign of hurt or irritation, indeed she exhibited nothing but gentle compassion. “Things are bad right now, Beverly, but it will improve, you know that. You’ll get through this.”  
Still scathing, Beverly said sarcastically, “Oh yes ... and let me guess the next bit of your oh-so-inspirational spiel. You’ll be stronger for it; you’ll draw on your inner strength and overcome.” Beverly’s eyes shone brightly with anger. “That’s bullshit and you know it!” 

She then turned her attention to Will. “I want Captain Picard charged with multiple counts of aggravated sexual assault. I’m sure Ensign Kurnov will demand the same. I’ll provide a statement later, but for now, get out, all of you.”  
Will, Deanna and Selar filed out, their faces grim. As Beverly sat in her bed, seething with anger, James sat beside her sucking his thumb. The raised voices had woken the little boy and the dark anger exuding from his mother frightened him. He glanced over at his still unconscious father and sighed as tears trickled down his face. Ten minutes later he flinched as a terrible wail emanated from the main body of sickbay. Selar had just delivered her news to the now conscious Katya.

The following day was a difficult one for everybody. On her insistence, and with Selar’s acquiescence, Beverly and the children had been discharged to their quarters. Katya’s requests to be discharged were refused as she required more treatment. Jean-Luc had woken during the night and had to be lightly sedated to calm him when he was told that his wife had been discharged and was refusing to see him.  
In the early hours of the ship’s morning, Katya left her bed and made her way to Jean-Luc’s room. The door opened and she stood just inside, staring at the recumbent man in the dimly lit room. She thought he was asleep, and her mind began to furnish images of what he’d done to her. As her imagination took over, she saw herself entering the room, taking a laser scalpel, and emasculating him before killing him. His voice broke her thoughts and made her flinch.   
“Katya?” Jean-Luc rasped. “Would you like to talk?” He was floundering, wanting to help but not knowing how. He’d assumed she’d come to him to talk or, at the very least, vent, but until she let him know what it was she wanted, all he could do was offer gentle compassion.

The door whispered closed as she stepped fully into the room. Jean-Luc could hear her rapid breathing and it finally dawned on him that his life was in danger. He slowly sat up and did his best to compose himself. He made no move to summon help; he reasoned that if she waswere going to kill him, then perhaps she’d be doing everyone a favour.  
A tense silence stretched between them, the atmosphere becoming oppressive. Eventually Jean-Luc sighed and said quietly, “If you’re going to do it, Katya, then please, get on with it.”  
His words broke the impasseimpasse, and the ensign bared her teeth. “No.” sShe said spat coldly. “I’m not going to kill you, Picard, that’d be too easy, you haven’t suffered enough yet.” Her eyes glittered darkly. “I’ve thought about it, mind you ... in fact, ever since you raped me, I’ve been thinking about little else.”  
Jean-Luc’s face fell as he whispered, “Katya, I’m so sorry...”

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t.” She ordered with quiet intensity. “Don’t insult me by thinking any apology could come close to alleviating the horror I’m experiencing.” She took a step closer and Jean-Luc saw anguish so deep he gasped. “As if it wasn’t enough to know what you did to me, Picard, as if it wasn’t enough to have those memories tormenting me, torturing me, I now have to endure the knowledge I’m carrying your disgusting offspring.”  
Jean-Luc’s mouth fell open, but no sound emerged. Katya stepped closer still. “That’s right, Picard, you impregnated me.” sShe hissed dangerously. “And not just one conception, oh no, not just one, your rapes impregnated me with five offspring, Picard. Five!”  
Before he could say anything, Katya delivered her coup de grâce. “And your poor wife is in the same boat.” Katya grinned cruelly as she watched Jean-Luc crumple. “That’s right, you despicable arsehole. You knocked up your missus by raping her. She’s only got three defective embryos to get rid of. Lucky her, eh?”

When his stricken eyes met hers, Katya explained. “The embryos are so badly deformed they’re not viable. Personally, I’m not surprised, an arse-wipe like you would be bound to create defective offspring, I mean you’re so fucking rotten, I doubt you’ve got any healthy sperm in you.” She stepped right up to the foot of the bed and stood in silence, letting the ferocity of her hatred smother the weeping man. “Because of what you caused, what you did, we’re not permitted a nice, clean, painless termination. Nah,” she shook her head. “No, Picard, the filth you put in us has to be expelled by our own bodies.”   
She smiled, but it was a profoundly unsettling expression. “I intend to collect my expulsions; I’m going to gift wrap the resulting disgusting mess, just for you.”  
She wiped at an errant tear and began to turn, butturn but hesitated and turned back. “There’s not a religious bone in my body, Picard, but if there’s such a thing as hell, I hope you rot in it.”  
She left and Jean-Luc succumbed to his gut-wrenching anguish. The medical alarm soundedsounded, and the duty doctor came in. A quick inspection of the readouts led to an equally quick decision. Jean-Luc didn’t hear the hiss of the hypospray, but he welcomed the oblivion it provided.

The call from the duty doctor woke Selar, butSelar but came as no surprise. Katya’s entry into Jean-Luc’s room had been noted and, after the duty doctor had questioned her once he’d treated the distressed captain, he had no option but to call his superior.  
Anticipating the call didn’t make it any easier to deal with though. Selar dressed and set off to Beverly’s quarters, composing her thoughts as she walked briskly through the great ship. There was no hesitation once she arrived, she pressed the chime and waited patiently.  
Beverly’s eyes showed her fear as she opened the door, trying to push her sleep-tousled hair away from her face. Selar inclined her head and said quietly, “I apologise for disturbing your rest, Doctor Picard, but I need to talk to you about your husband.”  
Beverly’s fear rose to greater levels and her hand went to her mouth. Selar saw what was happening and was quick to allay her boss’s fear. “His physical condition is not at issue.” sShe said firmly. Beverly let out a long breath and gestured to the interior of the quarters.   
“Come in.” BeverlyShe whispered shakily, still recovering from her fright. Selar entered and then took a seat at Beverly’s request. The red head said nothing, instead allowing Selar to deliver her report.   
“Approximately fifty minutes ago, Ensign Kurnov entered the captain’s room. She was only there ten minutes, but once she left, the captain’s medical alarm sounded. Doctor Thomas attended immediately and found your husband in a seriously distressed state, requiring heavy sedation.” 

Selar paused to gauge Beverly’s demeanour. She seemed calm. “Doctor Thomas felt he needed to discover what had transpired to have left the captain so emotionally devastated. To that end he questioned Ensign Kurnov. She relayed that she’d informed the captain of her pregnancy, and yours, Doctor Picard, and added that both of you were carrying multiple embryos and that they were severely deformed. She also told him that both of you were going to have to wait until your bodies expelled the embryos. Although the ensign didn’t elaborate, Doctor Thomas feels that the news was delivered in a very brutal fashion.”  
Selar fell into silence. Beverly’s mind raced as she tried and failed to think of a way to help her husband. Since hearing the news of her pregnancy, her anger had slowly abated. She had given the situation much thought and, although she was still shocked and upset, she was ready to admit that Jean-Luc wasn’t responsible for what had happened.   
With her usual dispassion, Selar offered what she felt was the obvious. “There is little you can do for him at the present time, Doctor, he’ll be unconscious for some hours to come However, I think it would help him if you were there when he wakes. He was told of your refusal to see him; he was already in a fragile mental state when Ensign Kurnov visited him. Waking to find you there may go a long way to easing his distress.”  
Beverly fidgeted, not knowing how to admit to Selar that, although she was willing to forgive her husband, she was still frightened of him. Selar correctly guessed what was happening and said quietly, “You’ll be in sickbay, Doctor Picard. You will be safe; I’ll make sure of it.”

The smile that emerged on Beverly’s face was a watery one, but it carried her heartfelt gratitude. Selar offered a respectful nod of acknowledgment and rose to her feet. “I will leave you now, Doctor. Please come to sickbay at 0700 hours. The captain should wake soon after that time.”  
Beverly sat on the sofa for a long time after Selar had left. She was still somewhat dazed when she returned to her bed, snuggling up to James who was sleeping with her as he refused to sleep in his own bed.  
“What am I going to do, James?” she whispered into the darkness. “Even if I’m with him when he wakes up, he’s going to sense my fear of him and that’s going to cause as much damage, if not more, than if I wasn’t there.”   
As Beverly took a shuddering breath, a tear trickled across her face to wet the pillow. “One part of me wants to help him, but another, larger part, wants to keep my distance.” She sniffed softly. “If only I could rid myself of the damned memories ... or at the very least find a way to hide them. Or subdue them, even only temporarily would help at this stage.”  
Beverly closed her eyes and more tears slipped free. “It’s this initial phase of our recoveries that’s the hardest, trying to find a way to acknowledge what’s happened, then find a way to begin our healing.” She placed a gentle kiss on James’s forehead as he turned over resettled with his arm now over Beverly’s chest.

“We have to find ourselves, James, we need to rediscover ourselves and find a way to rebuild our relationship. Trouble is,” she sighed deeply. “That requires both love and trust. Love we have, but trust?” A quiet sob escaped, and Beverly compressed her lips for a moment or two in an attempt to regain control. She didn’t want to wake her son. Taking another shaky breath, she continued in a whisper, “I don’t doubt he trusts me,me; he has no reason not to, but right now I certainly don’t trust him.” She stopped the whispering and her soliloquy continued in silent thought.  
“Knowing intellectually that he wasn’t responsible for what happed is all well and good, but the reality of what occurred is too fresh, too raw for me, oand r Katya, for that matter, to allow for the vulnerability that trust brings. Not that Katya will ever trust him again.” Beverly grimaced silently. 

“That poor young woman will probably never trust anyone again.” She sighed deeply. “No, trust is going to be the hardest thing to regain, I think. Time will help, of course, and my memories of what we had before the...” she hesitated, searching for the right word to describe what had happened. She settled on ‘incidents’, as it encompassed everything, from their capture to their rescue and all that occurred in between. “When the memories of the The incidents have faded,” she thought firmly. But then she amended, “or at least, when they’ve lost their potency.”  
Beverly had known from the outset that it was going to be a long and difficult recovery for all of them, James included, and she despaired that they might not make it through to recover what they once had, but she acknowledged and accepted that that may not necessarily be a bad thing. 

Yes, their relationship might eventually be different, both on a personal level and more generally as a family, but different didn’t necessarily mean worse. It could just as easily mean better. “If only,” she whispered sadly, “If only we could jump forward to the place where we’re well on the way to recovery. The place where the worst of our pain and anguish have passed.” She sighed again, but this time with relief as she felt sleep begin to creep over her.   
She knew she didn’t have to ask the computer to wake her, she would only doze. Somewhere in her musings she’d decided to be there when her husband woke. How they would handle each other’s reactions would be something she’d discover then. For now, she slipped into a light sleep, a stray plea that she not dreamdoes not dream drifting through her mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Having just made love, Will was annoyed when sleep eluded him. It was good, satisfying sex, mutually desired and enjoyed, but where he would normally fall into a deep, restorative sleep, this time he was left restless and vaguely fearful. It was when Deanna said quietly in the darkness, “Me too.” that Will realised she was awake. He sighed and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.   
“Sorry, Deanna.” he rumbled quietly. His apology covered more than one thing. He knew his restless tossing and fidgeting would’ve disturbed his lover, but also his unsettled thoughts and emotions would vex her as well. Being an empath wasn’t always an advantage. 

“Don’t apologise, Will.” she murmured graciously. “I doubt I was going to sleep either.”  
He grunted and turned to face her. His fingers tenderly trailed down her face, making her sigh with love and acceptance. Her expression fell though as sadness took over. “I want to help them, Will, but I can’t until they find each other.”  
He knew she was referring to Beverly and Jean-Luc, but he frowned, not quite understanding. “You can’t counsel them individually?” he asked.  
“Yes, I can, but that won’t achieve much, in fact it could be detrimental.”  
“Why? How?”

“Well,” Deanna began cautiously, “I suppose this relates more to the captain’s situation than Beverly’s or Katya’s, but if I was to counsel the captain without him having any interaction with Beverly, then he may fall further into depression and withdraw completely.” She sighed deeply and sadly before continuing,  
“He hates himself, Will. He knows he wasn’t responsible for what happened, that without the drugs he would never have violated Beverly or Katya, but the very fact that he remembers everything so clearly, well, it’s destroying him.”  
“Yeah.” Will agreed sadly. “It’s so far from the man he is, it’s no wonder he can’t come to terms with what he did, even though he had no choice.”  
“Exactly.” Deanna concurred. “But if he’d made a reconnection with Beverly, even if it wasn’t necessarily a forgiving one, then I’d have something to work with. I could encourage them to express their feelings to each other.”  
Will pulled down the corners of his mouth and then expressed his dubiousness. “That sounds like it’d cause more trouble than it’s worth. How would it help either of them to know how badly damaged each of them are by what happened? Surely that’d only cause crippling guilt. Especially for the captain.”

“Perhaps,” Deanna said, conceding his point. “But it could still be a starting point, a place to begin to heal. Their feelings have to acknowledged, Will. Each of them has to know what the events have done to the other psychologically. If that acknowledgement doesn’t occur, then it invalidates their feelings and that would be devastating.”  
“Maybe,” Will grunted, “But knowing how badly the events have affected each of them might be just as devastating. How the hell will the captain recover knowing not only what he did, but what the consequences of his actions were for his...” he trickled to a halt, a deep frown marring his brow. 

Deanna pulled back and frowned. “Say it.” she said quietly. Will sighed and briefly considered refusing, but in the end conceded that she was right to ask him to say the words. “Ok.” he muttered, and then sighed. “His victims.”  
“Interesting.” Deanna said in a way that made Will be on his guard. His lover had the ability to make him see things ... admit things he’d rather not. He knew this was one of those times.  
“You categorise Beverly and Katya as the captain’s victims.” Before Will could say anything, she continued. “And I notice you keep mentioning how the captain will fare during his recovery. Where, exactly, do you stand, Will?” she sat up and stared down at the man. “Is he not a victim too? Or are you intimating he’s somehow more of a victim than Beverly or Katya?”  
“Oh, come on, Deanna, that’s ridiculous.” Will grumbled, but he was blushing in the darkness. Deanna had pricked a sore and he was reluctant to talk about it.  
“Is it?” she asked. “Why, Will? Why is it ridiculous?”

He was silent so long Deanna thought she’d have to ask again, but eventually Will swallowed and let out a huff. “It’s just that the captain is a very strong-willed man.”  
“So?”  
“Well ... I don’t know ... maybe he should’ve been able to, you know ... overcome the drugs...?” he hurried on. “Look, I can understand him not trying too hard with Katya, but Beverly? The love of his life? A woman he’d waited over 30 years for? No, I can’t understand why he didn’t do something to prevent what happened to Beverly.”  
Deanna was dumbfounded. “If I hadn’t actually heard what you just said I wouldn’t have believed you’d be capable of saying something so utterly reprehensible and stupid!”  
Will tucked his chin in and clenched his jaw. He knew what he’d said was stupid, but the thoughts were in his head. Trouble was he had no idea why. Fortunately, Deanna knew him well and understood that sometimes irrational thoughts surfaced during times of stress.

“Ok.” she offered in a more conciliatory tone. “Let’s look at this.” She reached for his hand and he gave it eagerly. “No one involved in this deplorable series of events is responsible for what happened to them. Agreed?”  
“Yes.” Will rumbled.   
“Right.” Deanna continued. “And none of them is any more traumatised than the other, there are no degrees of trauma here, each person has suffered a great deal.”  
“Agreed.”

“Then we have to approach each individual with the same level of compassion and care, although their treatment will be uniquely tailored for each one. There is absolutely no blame attached to any individual here. Each has been violated in their own way and it’s going to be a long road to recovery for all of them.”  
Will nodded silently.  
“And that brings me back to the captain and Beverly. Although my treatment may differ for them individually, I still feel I’ll achieve greater success if the captain has managed to reconnect on some level with Beverly.”  
“Yeah.” Will agreed quietly, still somewhat embarrassed by his previous declarations. He then said quietly, “I doubt Katya will stay aboard.”   
Deanna sighed and replied sadly. “I agree with you, in fact, I doubt she’ll stay in Starfleet.”   
She lay back down and closed her eyes as Will kissed her, the kiss slowly deepening from a tender expression of love to a passionate gesture of growing desire. She moaned sensuously into his mouth as his fingers began their exploration of her erogenous zones. They made love again and at its completion they found the sleep they needed and wanted.

For the first two and a half minutes of Jean-Luc’s consciousness he lay quietly, enjoying the quiet and peaceful surroundings and his rested body. No pain interfered; no thoughts interfered. He was in some kind of altered state that was conveniently insulating him, and he made no effort to even attempt to leave it. That was until he heard a gentle cough and an accompanying rustle of clothing.   
He was initially annoyed that someone was in the room with him, sharing his utopia, but then fear began to encroach. As it quickly grew, his lower lip started to tremble, followed rapidly by falling tears. He whimpered then flinched badly and yelped in terror as a hand rested on his shoulder.

“Shh, Jean-Luc.” The achingly familiar voice cooed. “It’s ok, you’re safe.”

His breath caught in his throat and more tears flowed. “Beverly?” he rasped.  
“Yes, it’s me.” she replied, tears of her own starting to fall. She wasn’t surprised when her husband’s quiet weeping grew to broken sobs. He tried to speak but couldn’t and his inability to talk to his wife only made him more upset. Beverly moved her hand from his shoulder and laid it flat on his heaving chest. “Rest, Jean-Luc, rest now. We can talk later.”  
His face screwed up and his hands fisted as he tried to control his emotions. It alarmed Beverly, but she gritted her teeth and remained by his bedside. Slowly, as Jean-Luc regained control, his weeping ceased. The silence that ensued was brittle and Beverly almost lost her nerve, but she battled on. That resolve was broken when Jean-Luc reached for her hand.   
She jumped as his hand made contact with hers and when she moved her hand away from his she spoke before she thought. “Don’t!” she snapped harshly.   
The anguish that distorted Jean-Luc’s face wrenched her heart and she wanted to say something to banish it, but the damage was done. As she watched, his face lost the pain and anguish and settled into lost resignation. He took a steadying breath then said in a deep, gravelly voice, “You don’t have to stay.”

Beverly swallowed and gathered her courage. “It’s ok, I’ll stay.” She tried to sound calm and confident, but her underlying fear seeped through. Jean-Luc sighed and shook his head. “No.” He said resignedly. “It’s not ok, Beverly. Go, you don’t have to put yourself through this.”  
“It’s all right, really.” Beverly replied, her tone becoming testy. When Jean-Luc shook his head, she was relieved.   
“I’m sure the children would like you to be with them. I’m fine, Beverly, you can go.”  
She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by wording his request as he did. Was it a suggestion or an order? Or some other kind of dismissal? She shoved the questions aside as she got to her feet, eager to get out of the room. “You’re probably right.” she said hurriedly, trying to sound reluctant to leave, however the fact she was almost at the door belied her words. “I’ll drop by later.”  
She was going through the door when she heard him say something, but he said it so quietly she didn’t hear it. She was gone anyway, too relived at being free to even consider returning to find out what he’d said. If she had, it’s doubtful she’d have cared.  
He’d said, “Don’t bother.”

Will’s sleep was broken by a call from the bridge. Long practice had him dressed and out the door in mere minutes. He strode onto the command centre of the ship and barked, “Report.”  
The lieutenant on the watch rose from the command chair and gestured to the forward viewscreen. “We’ve caught up with the tumbling ship, Captain, but there’s no one aboard.”  
Will glared at the image on the viewscreen and shook his head. “What about the other ship? The one that left its sentry position?”  
“It’s gone, sir. Long range sensors showed it heading for Breen territory at high warp.”  
“Breen territory?” Will snarled with obvious disgust. “And I suppose the Dominion would complain loudly if we dared pursue the ship?” It was a rhetorical question, so the young man simply waited to see what his commander would do.  
“Break off pursuit, Lieutenant.” Will said coldly. “Get the tumbling ship under control, and then grab it with a tractor beam. We’ll take it in tow to the nearest starbase. Best speed.”  
“Aye, sir.”  
Sending another glare at the viewscreen, Will murmured darkly, “I’ll get you, you bastard. It may take time, but I’ll get you.”

Having placed the small container and its precious contents in stasis, Lannit began to formulate a plan. He was now in possession of the list of species he was to use when he was ready to source the breeding stock of females for impregnation. He knew that taking the females would be relatively easy, their status was irrelevant, so he would simply look for the most vulnerable, the easy pickings as it were.   
As long as they were physically mature enough to carry a successful pregnancy and basically healthy, any individuals would suffice. The disenfranchised, the shunned ... the disfigured, it didn’t matter as long as they were genetically healthy. Not even their mental state was particularly relevant. It wasn’t as if they’d have a choice in the matter. All they had to do was conceive, and then eventually deliver a healthy infant. Easy.  
He grinned with cruel delight as he contemplated what he’d do with the unfortunate females once they’re served their purpose. Of course, his employer wouldn’t want any witnesses, so it was obvious the females would have to be eliminated, which meant that he would have a supply of nameless, powerless females to play with.

His cock began to stiffen in anticipation and Lannit briefly considered taking some time for a lengthy masturbation session but lingering in the back of his mind was the spectre of the broker. Although Lannit’s growing confidence was making him more and more certain he could outwit the viridian, there always remained the unsettling possibility that the broker may have more strings to his bow than Lannit was aware of. A sneer formed on Lannit’s face as he grudgingly admitted to himself that the broker was a very real and constant threat.   
If Lannit was to get out of the arrangement with both his life intact, and the riches he knew the scheme justifiably owed him, safely stashed in a distant and totally untraceable account, then he would have to remain vigilant, not easily achievable with the broker watching his every move.

“No.” thought Lannit slyly. “This is going to require some very creative thinking. Somehow, I have to deliver what the employer wants, but still be able to circumvent whatever I’m sure their plans are for my demise.” He grimaced as he realised the complexity of the situation. “It’d be good if I could make my escape once the females are pregnant, but if I know the broker, he’s going to ensure that I receive no payment until the damned infants are delivered. Still...” he sighed hopefully, “the employer and the broker might just be distracted enough with the offspring, and whatever I’ve come up with to trap Picard, for me to make off without being noticed.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “And with my latinum, of course.”  
His mind shifted focus as he began to use a keyboard to access his computer. It was a very archaic thing to do, but such was his level of paranoia, and suspicion of being recorded, he refrained from using the voice interface. Even the keystrokes were heavily encrypted, making it that much harder to spy on him. 

The request he made was for a search to discover not only the source of his, and thus the broker’s, employer’s wealth, but where it was. Depending on the answers, which he knew without any doubt, would take many weeks, if not months to gain, would determine how he was going to tackle the problem of successfully obtaining his latinum. He told himself it was a fair and just payment for services rendered, but of course it wasn’t, because he was going to take as much as he could access.   
It was theft, pure and simple. He refused to even consider that, should he achieve his goals, the broker would have even more incentive to catch and kill him in the most painful, gruesome, and protracted way possible.  
Individuals like Lannit were eternally and supremely confident, confident in their abilities and their perceived superiority, and confidence was an asset. However, overconfidence was definitely not. Without the counterbalance of justified caution, overconfidence was more often than not a fatal flaw. The irony of the situation was that Lannit didn’t see that his overconfidence would most probably be his downfall because his overconfidence wouldn’t allow him to.  
He sat back from his keyboard and his expression became dreamy as his mind furnished images of what his latinum would afford him. The opulent lifestyle, the luxuries, the protection, the power ... the unending supply of beings to violate and torture. His cock hardened again and this time he succumbed to his lust.  
He rose and made his way to his bedroom and, as he slipped his cock into the masturbator, the broker downloaded the information from his keyboard. 

The broker knew that the keystrokes would be heavily encrypted, but he had the advantage of time and the fact that he knew Lannit well. He’d already made a fairly accurate guess as to what Lannit had requested his computer to do, but guesses, even fairly accurate ones, were not what his employer demanded of him.   
Solid proof was what was required, so the broker, ever patient, sent the download to a very special device, its purpose was dedicated solely to decryption.   
Like Lannit Yan, the viridian’s reactions would depend on what he learned. Ultimately it would be the employer who would decide what to do and how to proceed. The broker could only hope his employer would give him the opportunity to deal with Lannit Yan as he saw fit. As he so hungered to do.

For safety reasons the Enterprise stayed at ½ impulse as she made her way to the nearest starbase. Although the goal of rescuing their friends had been achieved, Will remained angry and irritable. The cause of his bad mood was the situation he now found himself in. He knew his friends were struggling mightily in the aftermath of their dreadful experiences and he also knew that, despite Beverly withdrawing her request that he lay charges of aggravated sexual assault against her husband, Katya had not.

Just as Beverly had predicted, Katya had contacted Will and, while only barely keeping control of her emotions, insisted that the charges be laid. She also insisted that charges of deliberate endangerment be added, as she alleged that her captain’s refusal to leave Haven when they discovered the true nature of the cult was a contributing factor in what followed.  
Katya had delivered her resignation from Starfleet, effective immediately and was expecting to leave the ship when it arrived at the starbase, approximately 3 ½ weeks hence. Knowing the mental anguish the young woman was experiencing, not only struggling to cope with her recent experiences but now also burdened with the knowledge of her pregnancy, Will wisely chose to resist the urge to request she wait a while before any charges were laid.  
Although he felt confident, once the full circumstances of all that had transpired were carefully examined, that his captain would be completely exonerated, the trauma that the investigation would bring would most certainly cause all concerned to suffer further psychological damage. He knew it was unavoidable, but he wanted to minimise it as much as possible, so while asking Katya to wait was a reasonable thing to do, he didn’t want to worsen her already fragile mental state, so, he didn’t.  
The Enterprise crew were still in the dark as to the nature of the recent events, but word quickly spread throughout the ship that their captain, his family, and ensign Katya Kurnov had undergone some very traumatic experiences. The more imaginative members of the crew began to speculate, coming up with ever increasingly lurid scenarios. 

None of this behaviour was abnormal; it was part-in-parcel of living aboard a starship. In a closed community and often in space for protracted lengths of time, Will knew it wouldn’t be long before the salacious gossip turned from titillating to downright nasty.  
He had to do something to put the brakes on. He knew that ordering the crew to desist would only make things worse by adding fuel to the fire. Without an explanation the crew would accept, any heavy-handed approach from any of the command staff would likely bring about a backlash. And that was something Will wanted to avoid. To that end he contacted Juan Jimenez.  
Using the same deeply encrypted communication system, Will had only a short wait before his friend’s smiling face appeared. He beamed at Will and offered a wink. “Congratulations. Will!” he said with genuine warmth. “I knew you’d succeed.”  
Will summoned a tired smile. “Thanks.” he murmured, somewhat sarcastically. Juan’s expression changed to one of concern as he noted Will’s tone. He chose to adopt a bland response. “I’ve read the preliminary reports, Will. It must’ve been difficult.”  
“It was.” Will replied, and then added, “And it’s not over yet.” There was a hint of accusation in Will’s tone now.  
Juan sighed and rubbed his eyes. “They’re not coping?” he asked sympathetically, yet mildly, making Will snort and shake his head.   
“That’s an understatement.” he growled. “It’s bad, Juan ... really bad.”

Juan nodded sympathetically. “The JAG office is already mounting the investigation, all very quietly, of course. My guess would be it’ll be over fairly quickly. There’s ample evidence that Twenth and Lannit Yan were responsible for everything that occurred.”  
Will nodded, but his expression was sour. “The victims will have to be interviewed, though, won’t they.”  
It wasn’t a question, so Juan simply shrugged, making Will scowl and cause him to say hotly, “They’ve been through enough, Juan.”  
“I hear you, Will.” Juan responded with compassion and sadness. “But I’m afraid there’s no way around it. Twenth is dead but Lannit Yan is still on the loose. Without statements being taken from his victims, there’s a chance, a remote one, admittedly, but still a chance the slippery bastard could somehow minimise his culpability.”  
“He’s still wanted on Haven for multiple murders.” Will muttered angrily. “He’ll get life for those.”

“If he’s caught and put on trial.” Juan stipulated quietly. “And there’s something else you should consider, Will.”  
The big, bearded man raised an eyebrow. Juan took that as a tacit question, so he answered it. “If the victims don’t get to give a statement, it’ll deprive them of the opportunity to express clearly, to a legal representative, exactly what happened to them.” He held up a hand to quell Will’s rebuttal. “Yes, I know they’re going to get that chance during therapy, but giving a statement to a legal representative, knowing it can be used to bring those responsible to justice is very empowering, Will. Would you deprive them of that?”

Will swore vehemently and shoved his chair back. “Damn you, Juan!” he spat, needing to vent. “It’s going to rip them up, especially the captain.”  
“Yes, I suppose he has the worst of it, but Will...”

“No!” Will snapped. “You don’t have the full story, Juan.” When Juan didn’t say anything, Will took a steadying breath and did his best to keep control of his surging emotions. “Both Beverly and Ensign Kurnov are pregnant, and Captain Picard’s the father. As a direct consequence of being injected with high doses of fertility drugs, they’re both carrying multiple embryos, but they’re not viable.” Will grimaced. “The embryos badly deformed. Our doctors advocate they wait until their bodies spontaneously abort the embryos, rather than subject them to further drugs to achieve the same result, but earlier … and easier.”  
“Oh, shit.” Juan muttered, his face grimacing. “That just makes everything that much worse.”  
“Agreed.” Will replied sarcastically. “And Ensign Kurnov has resigned from Starfleet; she’ll be leaving the Enterprise in about 3 ½ weeks, but not before insisting that Captain Picard is charged with multiple accounts of aggravated sexual assault and deliberate endangerment.”

Juan’s expression soured. “Look,” he said coolly. “I get that she’s traumatised, that she must be going through absolute hell, but surely she knows Picard can’t be held accountable. I mean ... what’s his wife saying about it?”  
By Will’s expression, Juan guessed it wasn’t good news. “What?” Juan asked, alarmed.   
Will help up a hand. “Things are rocky between the Picards, Juan.” He sighed deeply. “When Beverly was told about the pregnancies, she was seriously angry and demanded that the captain be charged there and then, but she cooled off and rescinded the order. The thing is ... she’s scared.”  
Juan shook his head in confusion. “Of what?” he asked warily. “Lannit Yan?”  
“Nope.” Will replied tiredly. “Of her husband.”

“Oh, crap.” Juan murmured, realisation dawning. “Yeah, I understand that, and I suppose if Kurnov wasn’t so angry she’d be scared of him too?”  
“Pretty much.” Will agreed. “I think her desire to get off the ship ASAP is driven by fear as much as it is by wanting to put it all behind her.”  
“Well insisting that Picard is charged over things she must know he’ll be exonerated of isn’t going to help, it’s only going to draw out the legal proceedings. No one will benefit from that.”  
Will shrugged and pinched the bridge of his nose, his weariness suddenly becoming exhaustion. “Oh, I think she knows that Juan, but I think she’s betting that it’ll harm Captain Picard far more than it’ll harm her.” He sighed sadly. “It may be the only form of revenge she’ll ever have.”  
“Fuck.” Juan said with quiet intensity. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Will shrugged and gave a small nod. “Yeah, a few things, but I’ll talk to you at a later date about those. For now, I need your permission to tell the Enterprise crew an abridged version of what they’ve been doing these last weeks.”  
“Ah.” Juan said, his eyes showing his understanding. “Scuttlebutt becoming a tad boisterous?”  
“You could say that.” Will replied sourly.  
“Ok. I’ll give you permission, but use discretion, Will, please. There’re still very sensitive issues at play here and I really don’t want to upset any apple carts, particularly when we may be getting close to apprehending some key players.”  
That caught Will’s attention. “Lannit Yan had outside help?” he asked, suddenly energised. His spirits fell when Juan shook his head. “Not exactly.” he said cautiously. “But he is closely connected to our enquiries.” He then held up his hand. “I can’t tell you any more than that, Will, I’m sorry.”

“Fair enough.” Will grumbled. He then yawned expansively, making Juan chuckle.   
“Let me know when you sort out what it is you want me to do, Will.”  
“I’ll do that.” Will said, summoning a half smile. “Thanks, Juan, Riker out.”  
Exiting the ready room, Will stalked out onto the bridge and, after checking that all was well, left to go to his quarters. He wanted a hot shower, a meal, and a decent sleep. The shower and meal he knew he could manage, but the decent sleep was unlikely. Until he knew his friends were well on the road to recovery, decent rest was just not going to happen.

Deanna stood outside Jean-Luc’s room in sickbay, an uncharacteristic frown marring her classical beauty. Vacillation wasn’t something that usually afflicted her. Although her counselling techniques tended to be gentle, there were times when she had to resort to more forceful methods.

Her mind provided memories of the torrid, gut wrenching therapy her captain had endured after his assimilation by the Borg and again after his capture and torture by the cardassian sadist, Madred, but she was hesitating now because she was unsure how to approach therapy for this new trauma.

It wasn’t that it was worse than his other experiences; it was more that this time it was so much more personal. With the Borg and Madred, he alone was the sole victim, even though because of his assimilation by the Borg, thousands had died, adding to his trauma, still it was his alone to bear. This new damage however, involved his wife, their children, and a young crew member he had seconded.   
Deanna knew he wasn’t to blame, certainly not for the assaults, but there was the matter of his refusal to leave Haven as soon as it was discovered that the new religion was acting as a terrorist organisation. She knew without a doubt he would be ruthless in laying blame on himself for everything that had occurred, and with his knowledge of the consequences of the events; his self-damnation was going to make it incredibly difficult for Deanna to get him to forgive himself.  
She sighed and briefly closed her eyes. Although she’d begun the preliminary interviews with Beverly and Katya, she’d yet to begin their therapy itself. The interviews were designed to give her the basis on which to focus where she needed to concentrate in order for her patients to not only achieve a full recovery, but to do so in a reasonably short period of time.   
She would cut no corners, though. It was imperative she be thorough. Beverly, she knew, would understand what Deanna was doing with the interviews and Deanna was confident she would be able to deliver her report calmly and with as little emotion as possible.

Katya, however, was another story. Having so little space-borne experience or any traumatic events on which she could base how to cope with the aftermath, either on a personal level, or the methods mental health professionals would employ, Deanna knew it was going to be very difficult to break through the deeply traumatised woman’s already profound shock, anger and anguish.   
And to add to those difficulties, Deanna had been told that Katya would soon be leaving the ship and Starfleet. The empath sighed and leaned against the door, worrying about whether or not Katya would seek help once she was discharged.  
And that brought her thoughts back to the captain. Everything Deanna had just contemplated about Beverly and Katya applied double, or much more, to him. “How the hell am I going to do this?” she thought plaintively. It was an ambiguous question. She may have been asking how she was going to approach the interviews and the subsequent therapy, but she may just as well have been asking if she was actually going to be able to do it at all, whether on a personal level or a professional one. Was her captain beyond her ability to help him? Her thought processes were so deep they blotted out her empathic senses.  
Shoving her misgivings aside and gathering her straying thoughts, Deanna straightened and squared her shoulders. Before any further doubts appeared, she pressed the door chime. What she encountered made her startle visibly. Will’s large frame filled the now open doorway, but the expression on his face shocked Deanna so badly she was momentarily struck dumb.  
In the ensuing silence, Will gently took her elbow and guided her to Beverly’s office. Once inside he ordered the door to lock and opaqued the windows.  
Deanna finally found her voice. “Will!” she said with dread. “What’s happened?”

It took a few moments for Will to gain his composure. When he did, tears welled in his eyes. “I just informed the captain that, as accusations have been made against him and statements from the victims have been taken that seem to corroborate those accusations, it was my duty to inform him that charges of multiple counts of aggravated sexual assault and one count of deliberate endangerment have been levelled against him.” He took a shuddering breath and added forlornly, “Those charges have now been laid.”  
Deanna’s mouth gaped, and then she whispered, aghast, “Surely Beverly wouldn’t...?”  
Holding up one hand, Will used the other to brusquely wipe his tears away. “No.” he snapped harshly. “No,” he repeated in a calmer tone, “she withdrew her accusations, but her formal statement stands, that’s a matter of law.”  
“She can’t recant?” Deanna asked desperately.

“Not in this situation, Deanna.” Will said dejectedly. “She was required to make a report for Starfleet and she’s done that, and if that was it, if that was the only report she tendered, there’d be no problem. But because she made a second statement, a formal statement to me regarding what had happened that corroborates her Starfleet report, and, crucially, Ensign Kurnov’s accusations, then she can’t recant it and I can’t ignore it.”  
“Look, Will,” Deanna began to plead; “Beverly thought she was doing the right thing ... not for her, but for Katya. Beverly never intended for her formal statement to be used against the captain ... her husband!”  
Will’s eyes hardened. “You’re forgetting she insisted I charge him for what she unequivocally described as multiple rapes!” He tried to calm himself and failed. “I know she was angry at the time, she’d just been told about the pregnancies, and yeah, she withdrew the request for charges, but between that and the two statements ... my hands are tied!”

When Deanna began to weep, Will tried to comfort her by saying gently, “Look, we both know he’s going to be acquitted, in fact it’ll probably never make it to court.”  
Deanna’s tear-filled eyes met Will’s and he gasped at seeing the despair in them. “But in the meantime, Will?” she sighed and shook her head. “I’m already doubting my ability to see the captain through this, and as for Katya ... once she’s off the ship and out of Starfleet, how the hell is she going to get the help she needs? She’s already withdrawing and the longer she refuses to deal with it, the more fucked up she’s going to become!”  
Will was shocked by Deanna’s language. It seemed to him he’d heard more profanity from his lover in recent weeks than he had in all the years he’d known her. It was testament to just how badly affected she was by the situation.  
Deanna’s brow furrowed in thought and her lips thinned. “How did the captain take it?” She waved her hand and clarified, “Being charged, I mean.”  
Will shrugged, but his expression clearly showed his obvious pain and anguish. “He seemed to just ... accept it.” He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’d’ve felt better if he’d have shown some emotion, actually. I’d’ve even preferred it if he’d yelled at me ... anything except his calm acceptance. It’s as if he welcomed it, like he deserved it.”

“That’s exactly what he thinks, Will.” Deanna replied bleakly. “He’s so devastated by what he did he’s ignoring the fact he was drugged and couldn’t possibly have prevented what happened. The memories he has are so debilitating that he’s hoping ... no,” she corrected, “he wants to be punished.”   
“As a way of recovery, forgiveness, maybe?” Will asked, trying to understand.  
“No.” Deanna replied sadly. “As a way of justifying his damnation of himself.” The counsellor sighed sadly. “He feels he doesn’t deserve any kind of forgiveness.” she sighed again and rubbed her eyes. “At the moment he doesn’t see himself as deserving anything but damnation, he certainly doesn’t think he’s entitled to help or any kind of recovery.”  
“And Beverly and Katya?” Will asked, his face showing his worry. 

Deanna sighed yet again and shook her head, sadly. “Beverly will recover, but her recovery is going to be hampered by the captain’s difficulties, especially once she discovers that her formal statement will be used as part of the inevitable judicial investigation. I agree that Captain Picard will be exonerated, but the investigation is going to be very hard on her, on all of them.” Deanna took a moment to gather her thoughts.  
“Katya, on the other hand, is going to feel cheated. She’s managed to achieve some small revenge by having you lay the charges, but deep down she must know that the captain will never have to answer for what happened.” Deanna said worriedly.  
“What a fucking can of worms.” Will muttered darkly. There was silence for a few minutes before he squared his shoulders and gave Deanna a determined look. “Ok,” he said decisively. “how do we help?”  
Her smile was a weak one, but she appreciated his gesture of solidarity. “Well,” she said, gathering her thoughts. “The first thing I must do is go to the captain ... see if I can convince him to be an active participant in his therapy. Then...” she sighed deeply. “I’ll go and see Beverly ... explain what’s going to happen regarding her statements. Once that particular storm settles, I’ll ease her into her therapy.” She sighed and briefly closed her eyes.  
“And if she’ll see me, I’ll talk to Katya. I doubt she’ll allow me to help, but at the very least I could give her the names and contact details of some excellent civilian therapists.”  
Will nodded thoughtfully, and then said gently, “What can I do?”

Deanna smiled and let him see the love she had for him. “Talk to the JAG office, Will. Make them understand what’s going on here, what kind of difficulties everyone’s enduring. I don’t for one moment think they’d let this go without a thorough investigation, but if they could just tread lightly, it’d be very helpful.”  
“Ok.” Will replied, his brow lowering. “Anything else?”  
“Catch the bastard who did this, Will. One of them is dead, but the other’s still out there somewhere. If you can get him, then that’ll add weight to the captain’s case.” Her expression was grim as she added, “And if the JAG office hasn’t already done so, contact Haven. There must be witnesses to what happened.”

Will’s expression became thoughtful. “I’ll start with Vurenn, I’m sure she’ll be happy to help, and I know a few others I can speak to.” He then placed his hands on Deanna’s shoulders and looked down at her. “But I have to warn you, I can’t interrogate anyone, Dee. All I can do is find them and then alert the JAG office. This is their investigation; I can’t interfere, although I will ask any one I find to cooperate with them. Whether they do or not is up to them.”  
He saw the disappointment in her eyes and was quick to try and lift her sagging spirits. “But look, Deanna,” he offered with a modicum of enthusiasm, “most Havenites would be delighted to see Lannit Yan in custody, in fact they may insist on extradition if we catch him, so I doubt they’d be reluctant to help.”  
“That’s true.” Deanna agreed, summoning a small smile. “And those two aliens, Lannit Yan and the other one, the dead one, have done terrible damage to Haven’s reputation. It’s going to take quite a while for the blemish now blighting the planet to disappear. Their economy’s going to suffer in the meantime.”

“Which makes it all the more likely they’d be happy to help.” Will finished. He then cleared the windows and ordered the computer to unlock the door. “Right.” he declared firmly, yet quietly. “We both know what we have to do, let’s get to it.”  
Deanna left the office, feeling her lover’s gaze on her back. As she approached the captain’s door, she felt her lover lightly touch her neck. He didn’t say anything as he passed her when he exited the medical facility, but his gesture spoke volumes. It was with a resolute mindset that Deanna entered the captain’s room, not bothering with the chime. She seriously doubted the occupant would’ve reacted to it if she had.

Lannit Yan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The broker had been lecturing him on the need for restraint as the time drew closer to the procurement of the breeding stock. The employer had insisted on Lannit keeping a low profile once he began his tasks. Somehow, he kept a neutral expression on his face, but internally he was making some very caustic comments, all directed at the viridian.

He became so deeply involved in thinking up ever increasingly insulting barbs that he completely missed the fact that the broker had stopped talking. With a start and a shard of fear ripping through his gut, Lannit Yan refocused his attention and scrambled to find an appropriate response. The trouble was he had absolutely no idea what would constitute a response like that. 

When the ominous silence had dragged on for several moments, Lannit, now sweating freely, summoned a sickly smile and adopted an apologetic demeanour. “I’m so very sorry,” he murmured respectfully. “but I was so engrossed in assimilating all your very sound and reasonable suggestions that I seemed to have missed the last bits of what you were saying.”  
The broker remained silent, but his cold, dark eyes glittered with overt menace. Eventually he too summoned a smile, but there was nothing but malice in it.  
“While I’m gratified you’re taking my directives seriously,” he said flatly, emphasising that what he’d given weren’t suggestions but orders, he drew in a deep breath and continued, “but it would be very helpful ... and it would definitely improve your prospects for ongoing good health remarkably if you’d deign to pay attention.”  
He stepped closer and Lannit almost took a backward step to maintain his personal space. He changed his mind just in time as he realised the broker would use his retreat as an opportunity to punish him in some way. The viridian’s smile widened as he registered Lannit’s stance.  
“What I just tried to convey,” the broker remarked with boredom, “was that a purpose-built facility has been created to house and monitor the health of the breeding stock, so you are required to procure all of the stock before you deliver them in one visit. Do not bring them singularly or in small groups.” He declared forcefully. “Do you understand?”

Lannit Yan frowned as he struggled to make any sense of the order. He looked at the being and arranged his features into something resembling polite query.   
“Forgive me, I don’t wish to derail your very well-planned operations,” he began, his tone carefully modulated. “but I don’t have a ship any more and even if I still had my ship, it wouldn’t be able to cater for the amount of beings you want me to procure.”  
Even though the broker had to look up slightly to address Lannit, there was no hint of being anything but superior in every way. The viridian made no effort to hide either his contempt or his growing anger as he said coldly, “I hadn’t finished speaking.”  
Lannit swallowed and raised his hands as he stammered out an unctuous apology. The broker ignored it. “You will be supplied with a vessel appropriate for the task. Also,” the shorter being moved even closer to Lannit, making the being begin to tremble. This amused the broker, but he kept it well hidden.  
“You are to procure only. You are forbidden to touch the stock in any way. Hand coverings must be worn at all times when dealing with the females, whether at the time of capture or any time thereafter.” The broker raised his finger and waved it under Lannit’s nose. “Now pay particular attention, because failure to obey will result in a very slow and very painful death for you.”  
Lannit’s pallor increased as he nodded nervously.

“The stock must be untouched and by that, I mean virginal. Don’t bother to bring any female that has had a previous, penetrative, sexual experience. My employer insists they be unsullied, so, to that end, you are not to rape, molest, or sexually interfere with any of the breeding stock in any way. Once they’ve produced the offspring, you may well be given one or more of the stock as a gesture of good will, but if any of the females have been touched by you in any way...” he grinned and offered an unsettling wink. “Well, I think I’ve made myself perfectly clear. Yes?”  
“Yes.” Lannit said, still nodding vigorously. “You have my word.”

That made the broker snort derisively. “Your word?” he repeated cynically. “Your word isn’t worth anything, Lannit Yan. I’d trust the word of a Ferengi before I’d trust yours.”  
Lannit hid his umbrage, instead carefully adding it to the mental list he was creating that detailed all the reasons he was going to enjoy outsmarting the viridian and his employer. He gave a comically aggrieved look but said nothing.  
The broker seemed disappointed to have failed in getting a reaction from the kidnapper. His fist clenched and his arm shot out with incredible speed, connecting with Lannit’s stomach. The shorter alien stepped back as Lannit crumpled to the floor, moaning breathlessly, and heaving ineffectually.

The broker toed him, then bent down to say amusedly, “Make your way to the transporter room when you’re able, Lannit Yan, we’ll send you to your new ship.”  
It was almost twenty minutes before Lannit, still somewhat stooped and with one hand resting on his aching stomach, took his place on the transporter pad.   
The room was empty, but a disembodied voice warned, “The transport will take longer than usual. Do not move.”  
As his body began to dematerialise, fear lanced through the alien. He briefly wondered where he was being sent and if he would be successfully rematerialised.  
He was only able to find the answer to one of those questions.

As Deanna stood beside her captain’s sickbay bed, she gave some thought to the length and depth of their relationship. She had now been the counsellor under his command for nearly twenty years. At first, when she’d joined the newly-formed crew of the equally newly-commissioned Enterprise D staff, her captain been very remote, unwilling to expose his inner self or let Deanna to get too close to his real, inner, personal man. It was a case of Jean-Luc Picard the man and not the captain. But years of working together and assisting him in recovering from several traumatic experiences had caused them to build an enviable bond between them, a bond of mutual trust and respect and yes, deep affection.  
So, as Deanna allowed her eyes to wander over the pitiful, wretched man before her, she lowered her mental barriers and permitted the full force of his emotions to assail her. She was profoundly shocked and dismayed by what she felt, but not because it was tumultuous or emotionally devastating, it was because she sensed so little coming from him.  
At first, she thought he was utilising herculean mental strength to suppress his emotions or block her somehow. She quickly discounted that as she realised that in his current physical state he wouldn’t have the strength to mount such a defence. That led her to a terrible conclusion. He really was psychologically devoid. He had, in layman’s terms, shut down.

She laid a gentle hand on his forearm and said softly, “Captain?”  
He didn’t react to her touch in any way. Deanna gave his forearm a gentle squeeze and repeated a little louder, “Captain?”  
His eyes moved sluggishly until he was gazing fixedly at Deanna’s hand. She wondered if he was trying to tell her to remove it, as she knew he didn’t particularly like to be touched, except by Beverly, or his children, or whether he was trying to figure out what it was, or who it belonged to. She tried to gain his attention again, but this time she used his given name.  
“Jean-Luc?”

He flinched slightly, then frowned. He slowly raised his bowed head and his eyes inched upwards until he was staring at his counsellor.   
She stifled the urge to gasp at the bleak vacancy in his eyes and summoned a warm smile. “Hello, Jean-Luc, it’s Deanna. I’ve come to talk to you. To help you.”  
His frown became more pronounced as Deanna waited to see how he’d react, if he reacted at all. She was deeply gratified when he correctly identified her.  
“Deanna?” he whispered huskily.

“Yes, Jean-Luc, it’s Deanna.” she responded tenderly. “I’ve come to talk with you, would you like that?” she spoke to him as if speaking to a child. Sadly, that’s precisely what his cognitive level was at that time.  
“I don’t know.” he replied, unsure.   
“That’s all right.” Deanna replied, soothingly.   
“Is it?” he queried, before asking quietly, “Do I have to talk to you?”  
Deanna couched her reply in a warm smile. “No, you don’t, but you might feel a little better if you do.” she said gently and quietly. “But if you mean you’d like to speak with someone other than me, that’s fine, I know lots of people who would be happy to talk with you.”

He looked at her warily. “But I have to talk to someone.” He stated, a frown creasing his brow.  
“Have to isn’t quite right, Jean-Luc.” Deanna smiled. “You can’t be compelled to undergo therapy, but if you want to feel better, if you want to regain your old self, then you’d be wise to try.”  
The captain gave that some thought, and then sighed and shrugged. “All right.” he muttered dejectedly.  
Deanna sighed and took his left hand in her right. “And you’re willing to have me help you, or would you prefer someone else?”  
“No.” he tried to smile but failed miserably. “You.” he finished lamely.  
“Good.” Deanna smiled. “All right, to begin, can you tell me how you feel?”  
“How I feel?” Jean-Luc replied, somewhat confused.  
“Yes.” The petite woman confirmed. “If you had to describe how you feel right now, at this very moment, what would you say?”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes found hers and his tears welled. He only whispered one word, but it tore at Deanna’s heart.   
“Lost.”

Savagely quashing her emotional reaction to the suffering man, Deanna gently squeezed his hand and asked, “In what way, Jean-Luc?”  
His eyes narrowed and his frown deepened. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”  
“I’m sorry.” Deanna said gently. “I didn’t make that very clear, did I?” She smiled and considered her question, then began again. “In what way do you feel lost? Do you mean that you’ve lost yourself? Or perhaps lost your way? Or maybe you don’t know where you are?”

“I know where I am.” Jean-Luc said quickly and with a modicum of confidence. He then added, “I’m in sickbay.”  
“Yes, you are.” Deanna agreed with an encouraging smile. “So, what kind of sickbay? Do you think it’s a ship’s sickbay, or a starbase, or maybe a planet side hospital?”  
“No.” Jean-Luc said with waning confidence. “This is a private room…” He glanced around briefly to verify he was correct. “So, it’s on a ship.” he then added, “a starship.”  
“And which ship would that be?”

“The Enterprise.” he answered without any hesitation.  
“Which one?” Deanna mentally crossed her fingers, hoping he answered correctly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.  
“There is only one Enterprise in service. Enterprise 1701 D.” he gave Deanna a suspicious look and tried to ease his hand out of hers.  
The counsellor tightened her grip on his hand and gained his attention. “That’s not right, Jean-Luc. The Enterprise D was destroyed some years ago. This is the Enterprise 1701 E.”  
Tears welled in his eyes and overflowed, tracking down his sunken cheeks. “No.” he whispered raggedly. Deanna sought to ease him away from the obviously distressing revelation and approach the subject from a different angle.   
“Do you remember your private room in the Enterprise D’s sickbay?” she asked gently.  
His reply was tentative. “Yes...?”

“So, is this room the same? Do you recognise it at all?”  
He seemed reluctant to look around, but Deanna gently encouraged him. “It’s all right, go on, it’s all right.”  
Gaining confidence, he gave the room a thorough look and then shook his head and sighed deeply. “No, this isn’t my private sickbay room.”  
“It is, actually, but that’s alright. Now, Jean-Luc, why do you have a private sickbay room on a starship?”  
He frowned, then his mouth opened, and fear contorted his face. “Because I’m … I’m the … the… captain?”  
“Yes.” Deanna concurred gently. “You’ve been a Starfleet captain for a very long time.”  
“Yes!” he said as realisation dawned. “The Stargazer, and then the Enterprise.”  
“Yes.” Deanna agreed, showing her pleasure in his accomplishment by offering a warm smile. “So, you now command the Enterprise 1701 E.”  
“Yes.” He agreed, though somewhat warily.

“So, we’ve established that you know who you are and what you do and where you are.”  
“Yes.” he said, attempting to say it with conviction, but not quite hitting the mark.  
Gaining his complete attention, Deanna asked gently, “So do you still feel lost?”  
He didn’t reply immediately, and when he began to weep, Deanna moved to take him in her arms. “Tell me, Jean-Luc,” she asked gently, “tell me what you feel.”  
“Something bad has happened, something I’ve done.” he sobbed brokenly.  
As she rubbed his trembling back, Deanna dreaded to ask her next question, but she had to. “What did you do, Jean-Luc, tell me, what is it you think you’ve done?”  
“I don’t know.” he sobbed pitifully. “But I know it was very bad and I did it.”  
She held him as he eventually fell into a restless, troubled sleep.

It was a deeply troubled counsellor who entered the holodeck. She’d come straight from sickbay, eager to go through a stretching routine to ease away the kinks in her protesting muscles, courtesy of sitting in an awkward position for too long as she held her captain. Her back in particular was giving her pain and she hoped her routine would work and thus relive her of the need to seek medical help.  
As she began her loosening stretches, she allowed her mind to go back over her session with the captain. She grimaced as her back let her know it wasn’t happy about her choice of exercise, but she bore the pain and gently bent until her hands rested flat on the floor at her feet. 

“Will’s visit to formally lay his charges had a terrible effect on the captain.” She thought worriedly.” He was mentally absent at first.” She conceded, her face darkening with suffused blood. “But he did better than I thought he would.” She slowly straightened and began another set of stretches. “Once he gains more of himself the likelihood of his memory coming back becomes much greater.” She wanted to sigh, but the position of her body precluded her taking any deep breaths. “It’s going to hit him very hard when it does.” 

While she repositioned herself, she took the opportunity to take a deep, cleansing breath. “I better warn Selar that he’ll probably require sedation when his memory returns. And…” she briefly closed her eyes against the mental anguish of her next thought. “A suicide watch should be considered.”  
She stayed on the holodeck for a further 30 minutes and felt better for it, although her back still caused mild discomfort. Returning to her quarters, she had a quick shower and, dressed in a fresh uniform, headed to her next destination.

Beverly didn’t bother to ask who was at her door. She was seated on the sofa in the living area, her attention aimed at the large viewports, but although she was staring out into the slowly passing starscape, her eyes saw nothing.  
Elly was nestled in her right arm while she enjoyed a bottle and James was curled up at her side, his head resting on her thigh. He seemed to be asleep, but he still sucked his thumb vigorously. The sound of the door chime barely reached the doctor, but she knew Deanna would be coming soon, so she saw no need to request the caller be identified. Instead she called emotionlessly, “Come in.”  
Deanna entered confidently but showed her respect by gesturing in a silent request to the vacant seat under the viewport. Beverly summoned a small, unconvincing smile and nodded. Clasping her hands on her lap, Deanna made herself comfortable.  
“Elly looks happy.” She began, choosing a benign topic.

“Yes, I suppose she is.” Beverly replied, her tone showing her diffidence.   
Ignoring the slight rebuff, Deanna asked, “How’s James?”

That brought a worried frown to Beverly’s face. She sighed and offered a slight shake of her head. She mouthed, “Not so great.” Deanna understood that Beverly didn’t want to talk about the boy at that moment, so she smiled and nodded.   
“Perhaps later?” she suggested quietly. Beverly smiled her thanks and Deanna was pleased to see the expression was genuine.  
Although she was expecting Deanna’s next question, Beverly still couldn’t completely hide her irritation at having it asked.  
“How are you doing?” Deanna had asked, perfectly well aware of her best friend’s vexation. Beverly actually gritted her teeth as she made the effort to quell her feelings.  
She was about to offer her husband’s standard reply, but Deanna forestalled her by holding up one hand and sending an uncompromising look. This caused further irritation in Beverly and, had it not been for her sleeping children, she would’ve vented those feelings.

“Don’t say I’m fine.” Deanna instructed boldly. “You and I both know that for the lie it is.”  
Once again with her jaw clenched, Beverly took a moment or two to calm herself. She did offer a smile, but her eyes still blazed. “Very well.” she responded coolly. “I’m not doing all that well.”  
Deanna reacted with a nod. “To be expected.” She then gestured silently to the children. “How about we put them to bed so we can talk?”  
Beverly was going to refuse, but deep down she acknowledged that her refusal would be because she wanted to use her children as an excuse to avoid Deanna’s probing. With a defeated nod, Beverly waited until Deanna had eased James into a sitting position, and then swapped, so that Deanna was holding Elly in her arms while Beverly scooped James up and off the sofa.  
As Beverly was settling her son in bed in her room, Deanna gently placed Elly in her cot in the nursery within the master bedroom, taking the time to tenderly caress her cheek. Beverly came to stand beside her friend and noticed as Deanna winced quietly as she straightened. Nothing was said until both women were back in the living area.

“What’ve you been up to?” Beverly asked with a salacious grin. At first Deanna didn’t understand what the redhead was referring to, but as realisation dawned she frowned. It wasn’t the reaction Beverly had hoped for.  
“No,” the petite counsellor sighed. “Not that, I wish it were.”  
“So, how’d you injure your back?” Beverly asked, now curious. Although Deanna was happy to do gentle exercises as a way of keeping supple, she wasn’t exactly a fan of vigorous exercise. Certainly, nothing that would raise a sweat.  
Deanna attempted to wave the query away. “Oh, who knows how these things happen?”  
“I do, actually.” Beverly replied, all humour gone. “Admittedly I don’t know precisely what you did to cause your injury, but I do know why your back hurts, from a medical point of view.”  
Deanna knew Beverly was doing her utmost to distract her, to try and redirect her attention away from why she’d come to visit. She smiled at the doctor and shook her head. “No, Beverly.” she said quietly. “That’s not going to work.”  
Beverly briefly considered feigning ignorance, but realised her best friend’s empathic senses would make any protestations useless and somewhat embarrassing. “Ok, but before you begin your torture, I’m going to get a drink.” Beverly snapped. “Do you want anything?”

Deanna shook her head as she watched, somewhat concerned, as Beverly went to a cupboard and took a bottle of chilled white wine from the cooling unit inside. She poured a very generous glassful and then stalked to her seat and sat, took two large swallows of her wine, and glared at Deanna, tense and combative. She then raised the glass in a sardonic toast and said offhandedly, “Here’s to alcohol induced amnesia. May it occur quickly.”  
“Beverly…” Deanna sighed disapprovingly while slowly shaking her head. “You know that’s not going to help.”  
Beverly shrugged as she swallowed another large gulp. She smacked her lips and offered a diffident wave of her hand. “Maybe not, but until you endure what’s going on in my head at the moment, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”  
Deanna understood this kind of behaviour, much like her earlier reactions to her questions, it was more about taking a stance, rather than demonstrating a genuine determination to dull her pain with alcohol. The trouble was that Beverly could be so single minded she may not recognise that.

Deanna adopted a bland expression and said as evenly as she could, “Put the glass down, Beverly.”  
Predictably, and sadly, Beverly’s reaction was to glare defiantly and raise the glass to take another drink. Deanna’s quietly spoken, “Please.” halted the action with the rim of the glass mere centimetres from Beverly’s mouth. She hesitated for a second or two, then lowered it and sent Deanna a cold stare.

When she said nothing, Deanna said gently, “You’re better than that, Beverly, you’re stronger than that, and you know that while you may achieve the escape from your anguish by drinking to excess, it won’t last, in fact it’ll only set back your recovery.”  
It’d been said in such a gentle and compassionate way that Beverly found she couldn’t argue. She put the glass on the low table, then sat back on the sofa, shoulders slumped, head bowed and one hand covering her eyes as she began to cry.   
Deanna rose from her seat and went to her best friend and sat beside her. With her own tears tracking down her face, Deanna wrapped one arm around the suffering woman and waited until Beverly regained some control. It was when she took a shuddering breath and lowered her hand that Deanna knew she was ready to talk.

“Sit back and try to relax.” Deanna advised quietly. “Your muscles are very tense.”  
Beverly complied, even going so far as to let her head fall back to rest on the padded backrest. Her eyes drifted closed and she took a deep, steadying breath. “Good.” Deanna encouraged quietly. “Now, I won’t ask you to tell me how you feel, I know at this point it’d be redundant.”

That provoked a snort from Beverly, but it wasn’t a derisive response. Heartened by her friend’s willingness to engage, Deanna gently placed her hand over Beverly’s, resting on her thigh. “These early stages are the hardest, Beverly, you know that.” she said quietly. “But I think you’re up to it. However, given the amount of trauma you’ve experienced, I’m willing to let you have some say in how far we go … at least now.”   
Beverly opened one eye and peered suspiciously at the counsellor. Deanna responded with a guarded smile. “I said some say. If I feel you’re attempting to deliberately use that discretion to avoid something important, I’ll ignore you and press on regardless.”  
“Now there’s a cheery thought.” Beverly replied sarcastically. “You give me a glimmer of hope, and then you slam the door in my face.” She sighed and gave a flippant wave of her free hand. “Whatever, Deanna. You’re going to do what you want anyway, why even dangle that carrot?”

These shifts between calm and adversarial were predictable, not only in Beverly, but in many patients suffering as she was. Deanna let the comments pass unremarked and carried on as if the words had never been spoken.  
“So, drawing on your past experiences with being counselled after a traumatic event, how well do you think you can relate your experiences?”  
Beverly’s eyes snapped open and she glared at the ceiling. “How well do I think I can relate my experiences?” she muttered angrily. “I have complete and detailed memories of every fucking second! Where do you want me to start?”  
Still calm and steady, Deanna made sure to keep her tone even. “Well, considering that Ensign Kurnov has insisted the captain be charged with deliberate endangerment over something that occurred before you were kidnapped, perhaps you might start your account from when you first arrived on Haven?”

Beverly’s face crumpled in anguish momentarily before she managed to regain control. She cleared her throat and then sighed deeply. With Deanna closely monitoring her emotional state, Beverly began.  
Forty-five minutes later she was sobbing in Deanna’s arms.  
In the aftermath of her emotional storm, Beverly was left exhausted, but oddly euphoric. It was as if the telling of her story in such detail had purged her of the underlying guilt and remorse over what had happened. As was common with survivors of her kind of trauma, unwarranted feelings of responsibility often hindered the sufferer. Fortunately, such was the deep and loving friendship between the two women that Beverly was able to express these feeling, knowing she wouldn’t be judged or taken lightly. The anger would come later.

This telling of the events differed markedly from her initial report and subsequent statement. Those contained nothing of her personal feelings, only relating facts, times, etc., which was what was required. Emotions and personal, unsupported opinions played little part in those accounts. If the events lead to a trial, then it would be up to the legal representatives to add the emotional repercussions of their clients. Especially if it came to sentencing anyone found to be guilty as charged.  
Beverly wasn’t naive though. She was well aware the euphoria she was experiencing wouldn’t last. Indeed, she would endure the dreadful rollercoaster of emotions for a long time to come before she found an acceptable equilibrium. All those involved would. Deanna too, knew this well, so she stayed long enough to see her patient into bed, and then waited until she found sleep. Having left Beverly, Deanna reassembled her mental barriers and redirected her attention to Katya. It was with some trepidation that she set off for her quarters.

Lannit wasn’t overly impressed with the ship he’d been supplied with. It was a fine vessel, there was no doubt about that, but where his former ship had been fitted out specifically for him, this ship was far more generic. On his old bridge his seat had been moulded to his unique body shape and the main console placed so he could comfortably put his feet up to relax. Of course, the lack of these small, but telling examples of custom-fitting had greatly irritated Twenth; Lannit had always argued that as he was paying for these modifications, it was only fair he be the sole beneficiary of them. It was just another example of the slow, but inexorable erosion of their friendship that had taken place. Whether or not it was deliberate on Lannit’s part was debatable, but mostly probable.

He was in his bedroom, sprawled across his bed and using his favourite masturbation toys. His eyes were closed, something unusual for him when he indulged in sexual behaviour, but the bland, mostly unadorned décor of his quarters upset him so much he knew that seeing it as he enjoyed himself would detract from the experience.   
He’d already come three times, but he routinely orgasmed four or five times before he was sated. His cock felt wonderful as the device massaged and vibrated silently, and the toy snugly encased in his vagina provided a delicious counterpoint. Like all of his species, he was capable of achieving orgasm from both of his sexual organs, but for penetrative sex with a partner, (or victim), he preferred to use his cock to fuck, rather than be the receiver of someone else’s.  
He had always found the perception of dominance and superiority he gained from using his cock added to the experience and, if it was a helpless and screaming victim his cock was buried in, all the better. Because of this preference he tended to use his vagina as an erogenous zone only. 

As his fourth orgasm approached his mind drifted to Jean-Luc. The mere memory of the sexual assaults of the human he’d shared with Twenth was enough to cause a vaginal climax. His body flexed and he barred his teeth as, on the coattails of the orgasm, his cock began to expel his semen, the rhythmic pumping coinciding with the orgasmic pulses of his vaginal climax.  
The double orgasm was unintended but no less welcomed. It was very potent, leaving Lannit almost semi-conscious. After twenty long minutes his eyes cracked open and he sighed deeply, a lazy smile creeping across his face. His breathing and heart rate had returned to normal and he enjoyed simply lying on his bed, sated and mellow. He dozed, but not for too long. The list of species he’d been given had stirred his interest as some of the species were completely unfamiliar to him. Once his mind began to devote itself to the methods of capture of these females his torpidity rapidly vanished.

He roused himself and slowly eased the still activated devices from his body, then entered a shallow bath filled with a semi-viscous fluid. He covered himself in the fluid and rubbed it into his skin, both cleansing and moisturising himself.   
Jean-Luc had been very close to the truth about Lannit’s skin; it did indeed possess reptile-like qualities and it required a remarkable amount of diligence to keep it healthy and supple, but in those states, it was exceptionally resilient. Clothing wasn’t really a necessity for his species; it was only a desire to conform to other species’ precepts of modesty that they wore any clothing at all.   
Having completed his ablutions he wandered, still naked, into his living area and slid into the seat at his desk. He scowled as he felt his buttocks flattening on the thinly padded chair, so utilitarian after his old, comfortable, custom-made desk chair. Huffing out a discontented breath, he shoved his irritation aside and activated his monitor.

His research of the species list had provided a map of sorts, his navigational computer plotting the most efficient course that would take him to all the planets he had to visit in order to procure the breeding stock. His brow lowered, but having no eyebrows made the underlying muscles used to frown clearly defined. The facial expression made his eyes seem to disappear into deep shadow.  
“That’s a damned long way.” he muttered sourly. “Why does the fucking employer insist on such a diverse spread of species? It makes no sense; there are ample species that are compatible breeders with humans a lot closer to home.”  
He snarled softly and shook his head. “Oh well, it’s his latinum.” He shrugged, “I’ll just have to add extra to my reward for wasting my valuable time.” He then sat back and frowned as another thought occurred. “The broker said they’d already constructed a purpose-built facility to house the females.” he muttered to himself. “They were very quick off the mark, but I suppose they may have built something to keep Picard and his family in. Sill...” he shook his head. “It must be a sizeable facility, if they think it’ll comfortably house all of the females, as well as the medical side of things.”

He leaned forward and brought up the species list again. “Twelve females.” He sighed, a wistful expression on his face. “And I’m not allowed to play with any of them.” He then leered. “Oh, but there are plenty of ways to enjoy playtime that don’t involve penetrative sex.” he grinned wolfishly. “Yes,” he sighed happily. “Lots more ways.”  
He leaned back in his seat and allowed his twisted and depraved mind to wander. Suddenly energised, he strode to the bridge and initiated the course that would take him to the first world on his list. The journey would take almost ten days. He already knew he’d be devoting much of that time dreaming up various was to play with the females that didn’t involve him actually penetrating their reproductive organs with his cock. He grinned widely as he imagined exploring other body orifices with it instead.

Katya’s face was set in an angry expression as she briefly contemplated refusing her caller entry to her quarters. Once she heard Deanna’s reply to her query after the counsellor had activated the door chime, her anger spiked, making her jaw clench and her hands fist tightly.

However, she knew how persistent the petite woman could be and decided it’d be better to admit her and allow her to impart her no-doubt standard clichés and get it over with, rather than put it off and have to deal with the woman’s dogged persistence.   
One thing was certain though, Katya was grateful she was in her quarters. She’d only been discharged from sickbay an hour before, albeit under explicit orders to report back regularly for more treatments. She sneered coldly as she reminded herself, she was free to refuse; her resignation from Starfleet had been sent earlier.  
No one could order her around now, but she grudgingly admitted that she needed treatment, at least for her physical injuries, which included her pregnancy. But as for her psychological injuries, that she refused to think about. Once she was off the ship, she intended to go somewhere quiet on her own, then once she felt calm and in total control she’d go home.  
She had no intention of telling her family what had happened, in fact she’d decided once she was free of the Enterprise, she’d never speak of it at all to anyone, so getting past the inevitable interference from counsellor Troi was a wise decision. Irritating, but necessary.

“Come in.” Katya called coolly. Deanna entered, fully aware of Katya’s emotional state, and stood in the living area of the modest quarters. She smiled and said with genuine warmth. “Good afternoon, Katya, I’ve just dropped by to ask how you’re feeling.”  
The smile that appeared on Katya’s face was unconvincing. “I’m doing as well as can be expected.” she said flatly, and then added slightly sarcastically, “But thanks for asking.”  
Deanna wanted to sigh, but was treading very carefully, so she let the remark pass. “May I sit?” she asked quietly. Katya shrugged and pulled her mouth down.   
“Certainly.” she replied and gestured to a lounge chair. “Although I don’t think you’ll be staying long.”  
“And why is that?” Deanna asked calmly as she took her seat.

Offering another shrug, Katya shook her head. “Because I don’t have much to say to you.”  
“I see.” Deanna said, expertly avoiding sounding condescending. “All right then,” she continued, “How about you say what you do have.”  
Katya’s eyes glittered dangerously, but she held her temper in check. “Look, Counsellor, I don’t particularly want to talk to you or anyone else about what happened, but if you really want to know the nitty-gritty, then with a bit of luck you can hear it all at the trial.” She then sneered, “But of course if the charges against Picard are dropped, then you’ll just have to be content to learn all the gory details from my official report and statement.”  
Deanna gazed with implacable calm as she replied softly, “I’ve already read them.”

“Of course, you have!” Katya said snidely. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me it was no one’s fault, that Picard couldn’t help repeatedly raping me and impregnating me.” she said loudly. “Well I don’t buy it!” she shouted. “That despicable shit stain repeatedly raped me and now I carry his filth inside me. I want him to pay!”

“I know you do, Katya.” Deanna said quietly. “It’s perfectly normal to feel as you do, but that doesn’t change the fact that Captain Picard was not responsible for what happened. He was dru...”  
Katya rose quickly from her seat and loomed over Deanna, bending to bring her face close to the counsellor’s. “He was responsible!” she seethed. “He refused to leave Haven when it was patently obvious, we were in danger! If he’d’ve listened to his wife we’d never have been captured. That makes him responsible for everything that followed!”  
Deanna allowed some seconds to pass and in the ensuing silence Katya calmed herself and regained her seat, irritated with herself for losing control. Once Deanna sensed Katya’s anger had subsided, she said quietly, “Then you don’t hold the kidnappers responsible?”

Katya rolled her eyes theatrically. “Oh, please ... do you have to be so bloody disingenuous?” She said with a sigh, then answered Deanna’s largely rhetorical question. “Of course, I do, but maybe they wouldn’t have been able to capture us if we’d left when we should have.” She barred her teeth and snarled, “And Picard’s failure to recognise the very real danger we were in is why, at the very least, he should be tried for deliberate endangerment.”  
Deanna nodded; making sure her expression was bland. “So, you accept the rape charges will probably be dropped?”  
“Yeah.” Katya replied grudgingly. “But if the JAG won’t try him for the deliberate endangerment, I’ll take him to civil court.”  
Deanna chose her next words with care. “I doubt the JAG will uphold the endangerment charges, Katya.” Before the woman could protest, Deanna elaborated. “You were all on a leave of absence, indeed, your presence with the Picards was entirely voluntary. Captain Picard made it quite clear the holiday was a specifically personal one, he even went as far as dropping rank for the duration.”  
On seeing Katya’s anger, Deanna held up one hand. “Of course, you’d be within your rights to pursue the matter through a civil court, but perhaps you should give that more thought? It would be months before it would be heard and you’d have to relive your experiences in great detail, and so would any witnesses you named.”

Katya’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “It’s not fair that you’re trying to guilt me into staying silent about this!” she said, furious. “Doctor Picard was there, and she told Picard we had to leave. She suffered like I did as a result of his refusal to see sense until it was too late!”  
“I’m not refuting that, Katya.” Deanna said gently. “All I’m doing is trying to warn you that digging this up after a long time, especially if you refuse to undergo counselling, is going to be very hard on you, and potentially very harmful.”  
Katya sat back and adopted a relaxed pose, but her eyes told a very different story. “Not as harmful as it’d be for Picard.” A cold smile crept across her face. “Imagine how he’d feel as he listened to his wife describe how he raped her.” She sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “That alone would make any anguish I felt worth it.”  
Sadness made Deanna’s expression of equanimity hard to maintain. “Well, as I said, it’s your right to seek redress in a civil court; I just hope you’re adequately prepared for the psychological repercussions.”  
Katya shrugged, then went to get to her feet, but Deanna’s quiet voice stopped her. “Will you allow me to counsel you?”

“No.” Katya said emphatically, then softened her tone a little to add, “I don’t require your help, Counsellor.”  
“As you wish, Katya, but will you accept the contact details of some civilian counsellors I’d recommend?”  
Sighing theatrically, Katya gave another shrug of her shoulders. “If you must, but I seriously doubt I’ll be seeing them, or anyone else.”  
The inevitability of Katya’s refusal to accept help depressed Deanna. As she rose to leave, she hesitated and said quietly, “Your refusal to accept counselling might just prove to be every bit as damaging as Captain Picard’s refusal to leave Haven was.”  
Katya’s expression hardened as she muttered coolly, “Thanks for dropping by.”  
Deanna left even more worried than when she arrived.

Deanna met with Beverly the next morning and shared a subdued, but relatively calm breakfast with her and the children. James had still been asleep in Beverly’s bed when Deanna arrived, giving the doctor the opportunity to tell Deanna of her concern for her son. She described his altered behaviour, how he was mostly silent and insisted on staying close to her and sucking his thumb obsessively. Beverly’s growing worry for the boy only worsened when James came out of the bedroom soon after having wet the bed. As Beverly ushered him back into the bedroom, she sent Deanna a look and mouthed silently, “Third time.”  
In the few moments it took for Beverly to sort her son out, Deanna decided it was high time she did whatever she could to help the little boy. When he reappeared, now clean and dressed in his normal day wear, he was being carried by his mother.   
He stared at Deanna and refused his mother’s request he greet his aunt. His only response to Beverly’s request was to suck his thumb harder and turn his face so he didn’t have to see the visitor.  
Beverly sighed and placed a kiss on his temple, as she whispered endearments. Once the red head had taken her seat, Deanna held up a hand to silently ask Beverly to take her lead. The doctor gave a surreptitious nod and waited to see what her best friend was going to do.

Deanna sat back and began to speak to James, but in such a way as to draw him out, rather than to ask him any direct questions.  
“You know what, Beverly?” she asked blandly.  
“What?” Beverly responded, her tone indicating interest.  
“I was just thinking the other day that every now and then kids should be allowed to have their favourite food for breakfast.”  
“Really?” Beverly replied, obviously surprised, but then seemed to give the idea some thought. “Well,” she sighed, “I guess it might be ok ... I mean as long as it was only now and then...” She deliberately made her tone indecisive, allowing Deanna to put her case.

“Oh, I think it’d be a great idea!” Deanna enthused. “Imagine if your favourite food was spaghetti bolognaise with strawberry ice cream, hot caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles on top?”  
Beverly only just managed to not grimace in disgust. “With or without garlic bread?” she asked bravely and was rewarded when James offered a quiet chuckle. Deanna’s eyebrows rose and she winked at Beverly.  
“So, what’re James’ favourite foods?” she asked leadingly.   
The doctor grinned and said playfully, “Oh, um ... probably something healthy like boiled Brussels sprouts, boiled potatoes, boiled parsnip and boiled beetroot.”  
That caused James to snort and lift his head to say softly, but reproachfully, “No, maman.”  
“No?” Beverly said in mock confusion. “Really?” she shrugged. “All right then, so tell me, what are your favourite foods?”

Said around his thumb made him lisp somewhat, but his menu was clearly heard. “Thausageth with tomato thauthe, hot chipth and the thweet Papa’th maman uthed to make ... the creamy caramel one.”  
Beverly smiled tenderly at her son and said quietly, “How about you try that without your thumb in there?” She gently tapped her forefinger on the side of his mouth. James sighed and both women thought he was going to refuse, but he surprised them by sliding his thumb out and saying clearly, “Sausages with tomato sauce, hot chips and the creamy caramel sweet.” He was about to replace his thumb in his mouth when he added cheekily, “with extra crunchy stuff on top.”  
“Ah.” Beverly said as if only now discovering her son’s favourite foods. “And what about some bread as well to make sausage and chips sandwiches?”

James gave that a brief moment of thought before nodding, his lips forming a smile around his thumb which was back in his mouth. Deanna sat forward and asked, “So that sweet, would that be a crème brûlée?”   
James nodded again, his eyes gleaming. Deanna gave a nod, and her facial expression showed her approval. “Oh, yum, I love crème brûlée. Do you know how the crunchy top is made, James?”  
He shook his head, now completely engaged. “Well,” Deanna said breathlessly. “Can you believe, sugar is sprinkled on top of the crème brûlée and then a real fire is used to melt the sugar, so it goes all crunchy!”

James looked at his mother wide eyed, momentarily forgetting to suck his thumb. Beverly nodded her agreement. “It’s true.” she said seriously, “and one day papa and I will take you to somewhere that makes it by hand, but while we’re here, on the Enterprise, we’ll have to get by with the ones from the replicator.”  
Deanna took up the conversation again. “So, what do you think of my idea, James?” she asked happily. “Do you think it’d be ok for kids to have their favourite food for breakfast every now and then?”  
His thumb exited his mouth as he shouted, “Yes!” enthusiastically, then looked up at his mother pleadingly. “Can I?”  
When she said nothing, but raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry, James smiled, “Please?” he said pleadingly. A gleam of boyish charm was evident as he added, “s'il te plait, maman?”  
“All right.” Beverly conceded with a hug, and then added, “But only every now and then.”  
“Ok.” James grinned before sliding off his mother’s lap and hurrying to the replicator. Beverly followed and very soon all three were seated at the dining table eating their breakfast. Deanna was chewing her croissant thoughtfully and only swallowed half of her mouthful when she asked James, “How are you feeling, James?”

He gave a shrug and would’ve left it there, but his mother admonished him gently. “James.” she cautioned. “Aunt Deanna asked you a question.”  
He sighed but knew he must reply. He shrugged again, but this time added, “I feel ok.”  
“That’s good.” Deanna said, swallowing the rest of her mouthful and tearing off a new piece of croissant as she smiled warmly. She was aware of what he was feeling and gauged his mood as being receptive. “I think you’re really brave.” She stated in a respectful tone. That caused James to raise his eyebrows and tilt his head a little.

“Why?” he asked, excited that his aunt would say something so nice. It was Deanna’s turn to shrug.  
“Well,” she said gesturing with her hands. “from what your maman has told me, you had some very scary things happen, but she told me you were really brave and very helpful.”  
At the mention of his past experiences, James frowned, lowered his head, and lifted his hand in preparation to suck his thumb, but Deanna stopped him. “I’d like to know how you helped maman. Can you tell me, James?”  
James stared at his thumb and sighed, knowing that if he tried to suck it when he was replying to his aunt his mother would ask him to remove it from his mouth. He sighed again and slowly lowered his hand. “I minded Elly.” he said quietly.   
There was a long silence then he added, “And I went to the toilet. I did pee and poop because maman asked me to.” He looked over to his mother and his eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean to pee on the floor.” he whispered.  
Beverly moved her chair away from the table and turned, her arms open wide in an invitation. James didn’t hesitate. He left his seat and settled on his mother’s lap, his thumb slipping into his mouth.   
“It’s ok, sweetie.” Beverly crooned. “I’ve already told you that what happened was a mistake and not your fault.” 

“I was thcared.” he said, his voice breaking as he began to cry quietly. Deanna watched for a while then asked, “Were there any other things that scared you?”  
He nodded and before Beverly had to remind him, he continued, “The bad men thcared me.” He took a shuddering breath and his face crumpled as he added, “An’ papa.”  
Deanna felt the wrenching distress that admission caused him. Beverly hugged her son tightly as Deanna asked, “You were frightened of your papa?”  
“Yeth.” he admitted, nodding as well. Deanna decided he’d had enough and said quietly, “You don’t have to talk about it now, James, but maybe you, maman and I can talk about it another day?”  
He nodded and sighed, allowing his eyes to close as he sucked his thumb. A thin wail from the nursery reached them as Elly made her hunger known, prompting Beverly to whisper to James, “How about you sit with Aunt Deanna while I go and get Elly?”

James looked up at his mother and nodded, adding gravely, “And change her.”  
“Yes,” Beverly smiled with maternal love and pride. “And change her.”  
When Beverly returned with Elly, Deanna and James were having a very animated discussion on whether or not to put tomato sauce in the sausage and chips sandwiches. He eventually convinced his aunt that the sandwiches would be greatly improved with the addition of tomato sauce and she watched with amusement as he used both hands to squirt a good amount of sauce on his sausage-chip-and-bread creation.  
When Deanna left soon after she felt she had achieved some success in counselling, if not with Beverly, then with James.

Will was seated behind the desk in the ready room, his bowed head resting in his hands, his elbows propped on the desktop. He’d just received a communiqué from Command and he was feeling frustrated and angry, two emotions he’d had far too much of in recent times.

Starfleet Command had acknowledged Katya’s resignation with regret and had requested Will try to dissuade her. They were at great pains to express their concern at losing such a valuable young officer and were worried she was making a huge mistake in throwing away what was a potentially very successful career.  
Of course, her brilliance in warp dynamics weren’t mentioned specifically, but Will could read subtext as well as anyone and he understood what Starfleet was really saying. The trouble was he also knew how pointless it would be to even try and talk her out of her decision. He wasn’t going to waste either his time or hers on such a fool’s errand.  
The communiqué also contained his orders concerning the JAG investigation. Basically, he was being instructed to do whatever they wanted, but what had upset him so badly was the explicit order for him to distance himself from his captain. Until the investigation was concluded he had to treat his captain as a ‘person of interest’.

The charges he’d laid were serious ones and, although Command agreed with Will that the captain would most likely be exonerated, it was considered inappropriate for Will to be seen supporting the charged man. Technically Jean-Luc had been relieved of duty until the investigation’s findings were made known, so Will was still the acting captain.  
The big man snorted derisively as he contemplated just how mentally disabled his captain was. “It’s not as if he can mount any defence.” he snarled to himself. “Christ, what does Command think he’s going to do? Leave the ship? Threaten the witnesses?” he scowled and sat up, scrubbing his face with his hands. The ever-present weariness lay heavy on his shoulders as he sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I suppose the JAG office will be next with their edicts.” he muttered sourly. “Talk about a cluster fuck.”  
He had just risen from his seat when the monitor chimed an incoming message. As he’d predicted, it was the JAG office. He sat back down and glared ineffectually at the dark screen before slapping the activator. Somehow, he managed to plaster a benign expression on his face, but it cost him dearly.

Ten angry minutes later, Will was still seated at the desk, helplessly seething. The JAG office had, more or less, ordered him to do as he thought they would, but his request that they take a soft approach to the investigation was met with cold indifference.  
He was told in no uncertain terms that the investigation would be undertaken with total impartiality and the fact that the accused was a well-known and highly respected captain held little or no weight, nor did the ranks or status of the alleged victims. In their eyes the accused was simply a serving member of Starfleet who had been charged with some serious crimes.   
They did, however, assure Will that the investigation would be thorough and, because of the apparent availability of witnesses on Haven, hopefully short. But ... the one glaring problem of not having the surviving alleged kidnapper in custody, and the also troublesome lack of forensic evidence, re the drugs allegedly used, might cause the investigation to stall. 

If there was no definitive outcome, the charges would be dropped, but all concerned felt that it would be best if the investigation were cut and dried. Evidence to prove or disprove the charges would either have them upheld and lead to a trial or dropped and the captain exonerated. Dropping the charges due to lack of evidence would be a worst-case scenario.  
Having closed the channel, Will sat back, and grumbled. “Oh, yeah ... I’m sure the captain would think having the charges dropped because of a lack of evidence would be just dandy.” He grimaced in anger. “That kind of thing would follow him like a bad smell for the rest of his life. Lack of evidence?” he spat sarcastically. “Some people’d take that as tacit proof of guilt,” Will’s expression soured further. “And there’d be those who’d make some kind of connection with that to his assimilation by the Borg. Try to insist he was a murderous, rapist prick all along. Fuck!”   
Will rose quickly from his seat and exited the ready room. As he strode purposefully up to the aft turbolift he growled out, “You have the bridge, Lieutenant, I’ll be in sickbay.” He didn’t acknowledge the reply.

Jean-Luc had felt calmer when he woke. He was aware that something bad had happened, and that he was involved somehow, but every time he tried to dwell on it, he began to panic, his fear causing him to weep, and it both confused and irritated him. He’d just finished his meagre lunch when there was a soft knock on his door. His reply, “Come?” was uncertain, but he smiled tentatively when Will entered and took a seat, reversing the chair and straddling it as was his custom.  
“Hello, Captain.” Will said warmly. “How are you feeling, sir?”  
Jean-Luc’s smile faltered when he replied, “I’m not sure.” He saw Will’s concern and strove to strengthen his smile. “But I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.” he added hopefully.  
It was difficult for Will to hide his distress at seeing his stalwart captain and friend so debilitated. Although the big acting captain had been ordered to distance himself from the man, Will found he couldn’t obey. He’d tried to tell the JAG officer he spoke with that his captain wasn’t mentally well enough to be interrogated, but was told that though the mental state of the accused would be taken into account, unless his doctor forbade it, he would still be questioned at length over the accusations made against him. To that end, Will wanted to gently warn the captain about what was to come. 

He plastered a wan smile on his face and gathered his thoughts. “Captain…” he began cautiously. “Do you recall my visit two days ago?”  
“Two days ago?” Jean-Luc replied, his fingertips rubbing over his lower lip. “You visited me two days ago? Here?”  
Will’s heart sank. “Yes, sir, I came to see you because I had to say some really important things to you.”  
Panic began to gather strength in Jean-Luc. His heart began to race, and his eyes filled with tears. “Was it about the bad things I did?” he whispered piteously.   
Will closed his eyes and struggled to keep his own tears at bay. “Yes.” he replied softly. “But, Captain,” Will reached out and laid his hand over Jean-Luc’s. “It wasn’t your fault.”  
With tears streaming down his face, Jean-Luc whimpered quietly. “Not my fault?”  
“No, sir, not your fault.” Will’s roughened voice cracked.  
“What did I do?”

That one tremulously asked question caused Will to bow his head and wipe his eyes. “Captain…”  
Somehow Jean-Luc mustered the strength to repeat his question. “What did I do, Will?”  
The acting captain felt he had no other choice than to look his Commander in the eye and tell him. “Sir, I laid charges against you for the multiple rape of Ensign Katya Kurnov and the deliberate endangerment of her as well.”  
Jean-Luc’s mouth gaped, and he paled in shock. “Multiple rape?” he repeated disbelievingly. “No.” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, I would never … no…” he looked at Will and asked fearfully, “I didn’t do it, did I?”  
“Captain,” Will said quietly, but firmly. “The important thing to remember is that what happened wasn’t your fault. You were…”  
Jean-Luc interrupted him. “But I did it? I raped someone?”

“Sir…” Will almost pleaded, but Jean-Luc wouldn’t have it. “Tell me!” he shouted roughly.  
“Yes, you did it.” Will hated to have to make that admission, but he knew there was more, worse to come. “And Ensign Kurnov wasn’t the only victim.”  
“What?” Jean-Luc gasped out. “I raped someone else as well?”  
“Sir, please … you had no control! The kidnappers had…”  
“No control?” Jean-Luc yelled; his hands clenched into tight fists. “What the fuck does that mean? Of course, I had no control … I am incapable of such a heinous act!” His expression changed from outrage and anger to one of dread as realisation struck. “But that’s what I did, though … I raped, multiple times.”

He then gave Will a stricken look. “Who was my other victim? Who else did I violate?” His voice trembled as fear built up in his gut.  
“Beverly.” Will whispered, and then screwed his eyes shut as his captain’s howls of anguish and horror filled the room. “No!” he wailed repeatedly until Selar entered the room and injected the wretched man with a light sedative.   
Will had warned her this might be necessary, and she’d agreed and added that it was best if the sedation was not too heavy. At some point her patient was going to have to face the situation he was in, and it seemed like that time had come.  
As he calmed, Will kept his hand on Jean-Luc’s. “Captain?” he said quietly. “I’m going to tell you everything I know about what happened, and then we’ll talk. Ok?”  
Tears still flowed from Jean-Luc’s eyes, but he nodded slowly. “All right.” he whispered. Fifteen minutes later he was sobbing in Will’s arms.  
Selar had left the room as Will began his description of the events. Once in her office she called Beverly and summoned her to sickbay.

The broker nodded respectfully to the image on the screen. He heard his employer sigh with satisfaction. “I am indeed fortunate in having chosen you, Rurke.” The employer smiled, but it was an unsettling expression, one that seemed his face was unused to wearing. “This little venture would be nigh impossible to achieve without your particular talents.”  
Rurke inclined his head, accepting the praise with equanimity. “Thank you, sir, your kind words are appreciated, but perhaps you should wait until you experience success? I’d hate to see you disappointed.”  
“Ah,” the employer nodded sagely. “that may be true, but I seriously doubt it’d be you that caused it, Rurke. No.” he sighed again. “No, any disappointment I experience would be at the hands of Lannit Yan, and that’s something I’m paying you handsomely to make sure doesn’t occur.”

“Yes, sir.” The broker said respectfully. He then offered a wry smile. “Would you like to know what the decrypter program has found so far?”  
The employer sat up, his expression turning anticipatory. “Indeed, I would.”  
“Well,” Rurke began, quelling his obvious amusement. “As expected, Lannit is scheming, just as we thought he would. He’s begun a covert search of your financial background; specifically targeting his enquires to discovering where your wealth is concentrated.”  
“Pointless and predictable, but somewhat amusing, nonetheless.” The employer remarked coldly. “And what are you doing about it?”  
“The false information I’ve hidden where Lannit will find it is already beginning to slowly leak into his seeker programs. It’s only a matter of time before his inherent greed will cause him to commit a fatal error of judgment.”  
“But he must be left to complete the task of gathering the breeding stock.” The employer cautioned.  
“Yes, sir, of course.” Rurke replied calmly. He then bowed low and said respectfully, “And then, sir, may I have him?”  
The employer smiled indulgently. “Yes, Rurke. Once Lannit has delivered all the females, you may have him to do with as you please.”  
Rurke’s smile was cold and predatory. “Thank you, sir.”

“Think nothing of it, Rurke. You have an enviable reputation for loyalty and single mindedness, something I’ve enjoyed for many years and I fervently hope I can use again in other … interesting… ventures.”  
Rurke straightened and lifted his head with pride. “I look forward to that, sir.”  
“Indeed, but in the meantime, keep an eye on Lannit and let me know when he’s due to carry out the first abduction.”  
“Yes, sir.” Rurke replied, but his employer had already closed the channel. The powerfully built viridian stretched, then flexed his body, experiencing a slight tumescence as he devoted some thought to how he’d spend his time with Lannit Yan … and how long he could keep the being alive while he enjoyed himself.

“With the judicial use of pharmaceuticals, especially coagulants,” he mused almost dreamily, “It might be possible to keep him alive for several weeks.” He licked his lips in an unconscious gesture of anticipation and then smiled coldly. “Yes…” he sighed, “Lannit Yan will truly learn just how very much I want to hurt him.”   
He then gave a curt nod. “No doubt there are many who would like to assist me,” he nodded again. “I would guess your victims number in the hundreds, Lannit, if not thousands. I have my tastes, my preferences for enjoyment, but I’ve never indulged in them with the innocent.”

He then shifted his feet and shrugged as an uncomfortable thought intruded. “What my employer chooses to do is his business, I simply obey his instructions. That’s all I’m paid to do.”  
He shook off his unsettling mood and strode to the nearest console. Two quick taps had him looking at a star chart that showed Lannit’s ship’s passage.   
“Hmm.” he hummed speculatively. “You have a long way to go to reach your first destination, Lannit Yan. I’ll keep watch from exceptionally long range, I think. You’re too crafty to miss the encroachment of a vessel without assuming you’re being watched.”  
He issued some commands to the computer, and then left the bridge to have his evening meal.

Deanna was waiting outside Jean-Luc’s room when Beverly arrived. It had taken some time to secure a babysitter and even then Beverly didn’t make the effort to hurry. Selar had told her that her husband was experiencing difficulties, but that it wasn’t physical in nature. Beverly was still somewhat reluctant to be in Jean-Luc’s company, but she did want to help, so she made her way to sickbay. On seeing Deanna waiting outside, Beverly failed to completely hide her irritation.  
Deanna smiled sympathetically, which only made Beverly even more irritated. “News travels fast, I see.” she said waspishly, making Deanna sigh with exasperation. She said nothing though, knowing it would only provoke Beverly further no matter how she responded. The doctor regretted her remark immediately but seemed unable to apologise for it. Instead of making any attempt she brushed past her friend and triggered the door to open. Deanna noted that she didn’t bother to knock and gain permission to enter.

Jean-Luc had calmed by this time and had endured hearing Will explain that he’d laid charges in accordance with Starfleet regulations. Will was just delivering the warning that had brought him to his captain’s bedside.  
“So, you see, sir, the JAG officers will be contacting ship to interview you … get your side of the story, you know…” the big man shrugged. “and of course they’ll be questioning all the witnesses, both here, on the Enterprise and on Haven, and once they have all the statements and they’ve gathered all the evidence, then they’ll make a decision on whether to proceed or not.”  
“Proceed?” Jean-Luc asked, still experiencing shock.

“Yes, Captain.” Will said grudgingly. “If enough evidence is found to uphold the charges, then it will go to trial, but if not, then either the charges will be dropped, or, if there’s sufficient evidence to prove your innocence, then of course you’ll be completely exonerated.”  
Jean-Luc’s mind had slowed, but it was still working. “So, I’d either be tried, exonerated, or the charges would be dropped due to lack of evidence.” He stated morosely.  
“Yes, sir.”  
Beverly moved closer to the bed, ignoring Deanna who went to Jean-Luc’s bedside, opposite Will. The red head inclined her head towards her husband, but she addressed Will. “He knows about being drugged?”  
“Yes.” Will concurred. “I’ve told him everything.”  
Alarm skittered across Beverly’s face. “Everything?” she blurted.

“Yes.” Will replied grimly, but before he could say anything further, Jean-Luc said quietly, “I know what I did to you, Beverly, and to Ensign Kurnov. I understand why you can’t bear to be near me, and I don’t blame you. I understand completely.”  
Embarrassed at being exposed and yet unable to refute his words, Beverly just stood and stared at the man she loved, wondering how they would ever get past this dreadful situation.  
It was Deanna’s soft voice that drew Beverly back. “Is there anything you’d like to say, Beverly?”

Deanna sent Will a meaningful look and he gave a surreptitious nod. He then rose and, without a word, left the room.  
“I…” Beverly began, but then seemed to run out of breath. She swallowed and sat heavily in the chair that Will had just vacated. “I…” she tried again, then shook her head angrily. “Dammit!” she spat. “Why is this so damned hard?”  
Deanna almost gaped with incredulity, yet somehow, she refrained from making any comment. Instead she sat patiently, outwardly composed, and serene, even though the emotional tumult emanating from both of her friends was almost overwhelming her.  
Having regained a little of her composure, Beverly began again. “Jean-Luc,” she murmured quietly. “I still love you and you’re still my husband, but it’s going to take time for me to overcome my … my…”  
She struggled to say the final word, so Jean-Luc said it for her. “Hatred.” He said it despondently, making Beverly rise quickly to her feet. “No!” she barked, anger flashing in her eyes. “No, Jean-Luc, not hatred, never that!”  
He frowned and looked up at his wife in confusion. “What then?” he asked.

Beverly momentarily entertained the thought of simply leaving the room, just turning around and walking out, but she knew if she did that she would probably not return, and if she didn’t say the word that hung precariously in her mind, she’d never do it. Instead she took a deep breath and said, “Fear.”  
Jean-Luc reacted as if she’d slapped his face. He flinched and tears welled in his eyes. “No…” he whispered, “No, Beverly…”  
“Do you find it harder to accept that Beverly fears you, rather than she hates you?” Deanna asked quietly.  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc said softly, his voice hitching. “Hate would be more … appropriate, more viscerally appropriate.”  
“Why?” Beverly asked, genuinely perplexed. “I would’ve thought hatred would be more devastating.”  
Jean-Luc took a shuddering breath. “Hatred I understand.” he said brokenly. “Hatred is what I deserve from the woman I love for what I did to her.”  
“And fear?” Deanna asked. 

“Soul destroying.” Jean-Luc replied flatly. “I know I deserve to be feared, anyone capable of doing what I’ve done should be feared but knowing that Beverly fears me is somehow more devastating than knowing she hates me.”  
Beverly sat on the end of Jean-Luc’s bed and did her utmost to keep control of her churning emotions. “I don’t hate you, Jean-Luc, I could never hate you.” She took a deep shuddering breath and summoned a small, watery smile. “As for fearing you, I think with time that will fade.” She watched as her husband’s face contorted in grief and self-loathing. “I have to learn how to trust you again, Jean-Luc, but I think I can,” her voice broke as she continued; “I think I can do that.”  
“I understand.” Jean-Luc whispered brokenly. Beverly bolstered her courage and moved up the bed to sit closer to him. She then took one of his hands.   
“We’ll work on it together.” she said gently, and then began to weep as Jean-Luc broke down in gut wrenching sobs.   
Deanna stayed while their emotional storm raged and when both had calmed, she said quietly, “I’ll be counselling both of you, separately and together.” She took a steadying breath. “It’s going to be hard, you know that, and it’s going to take considerable time before you’re over the worst of it, but as long as you help me, as long as you take an active part in your counselling, I’m confident we’ll get through this.”  
Beverly was nodding and smiling her agreement when Jean-Luc murmured softly, “What about Ensign Kurnov?” His question wiped the smile from Beverly’s face instantly. Deanna sighed and wasn’t completely successful in hiding her worry.   
“I’ll help the ensign in any way I can.” she replied cryptically. 

Jean-Luc wasn’t fooled though. The reply only served to make him more determined to have his question answered. “Deanna.” he said urgently, his fear rising. “Please tell me. How is Katya? How is she doing? Is she coping?”  
Offering a placatory smile, Deanna said gently, “Captain ... you know I can’t divulge...”  
That was as far as she got. Anger surged through Jean-Luc as he spat coldly, “I didn’t ask for a psychological report, Counsellor! I want to know if she’s coping!”  
His outburst alarmed Beverly. She left his bed and moved quickly to the door. Jean-Luc realised what had occurred and closed his eyes while raising his hands in contrition. “I’m sorry!” he said to both women. Then in a much quieter tone he repeated, “I’m sorry.” He took a shuddering breath and strove to keep calm. “I’m concerned for Ensign Kurnov; after all, I’m the one who’s responsible for any and all difficulties I’m sure she’s currently experiencing.”  
Beverly was still standing by the door, and yet her softly spoken words reached Jean-Luc easily. “No, you’re not.”  
“It’s true.” Deanna agreed quietly. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

As Beverly took a few tentative steps closer to her husband she said quietly, but firmly, “It may have been your body, Jean-Luc, but it wasn’t you. Drugs were used to remove your self-control and sexual stimulants were administered in such amounts that made it impossible for you to refuse to deny the overwhelming urge to have sex.” She offered a small, wry smile. “No one could’ve resisted under those circumstances, Jean-Luc. Not even you.”  
Brushing away his falling tears, Jean-Luc looked up at his wife and asked softly, “Were you drugged too?”  
“I was.” she replied sadly, and then amended, “We both were, Katya and I.” she sighed and then said, “But the drugs used on us were different to what was used on you. Katya and I received drugs that made it difficult to control our bodies and we were also given high dosages of fertility drugs,” she sighed again as she added, “And I suspect you were too.”  
Jean-Luc’s shock and dread showed clearly on his face. “And that’s why you’re pregnant?” he murmured as he remembered what Will had told him.  
“Yes.” Beverly concurred sadly. “The drugs they gave you,” she grimaced, “especially the stimulants, gave you the ability to ejaculate repeatedly, but of course your supply of available mature sperm would’ve been depleted fairly quickly, so at some point they realised ... or were informed, that to overcome that problem, you required fertility accelerants.”

“And that,” Deanna added, “Coupled with the high doses of fertility drugs Beverly and Katya were receiving made pregnancy inevitable.”  
“Which was their aim, of course.” Beverly said bitterly. “And as for the way it was achieved ... they obviously enjoyed watching what they made us, all of us, endure. Using rape to achieve their goals makes no sense unless they wanted to be entertained by it. It would’ve been far easier and quicker for them to have used invitro fertilisation. Take ova from us and sperm from you and once fertilisation occurred, they could’ve implanted any compatible female to gestate and deliver or, alternatively, they could’ve used a gestation pod.”  
Beverly’s words made a memory surface in Jean-Luc’s mind. He was so appalled by it he gagged involuntarily. Deanna, sensing his emotions, laid a hand on his shoulder. “Captain?” she enquired worriedly.  
He shook his head and waved her hand away. “I’m all right.” he said weakly, then, on hearing how he sounded, strove to bolster his emotional defences. “I’m fine.” he stated firmly, but neither Deanna nor Beverly were convinced.  
Taking her seat on his bed again, Beverly asked quietly, “What just happened, Jean-Luc?”

He knew it was pointless to try and deflect her, so instead he conjured up what he hoped was a convincing lie. “It’s a residual effect of the drugs, I think.” He grimaced. “Every now and then I experience a strong wave of nausea.”  
Beverly’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but she couldn’t challenge him directly as none of them knew what the drugs used were, so none of them were aware of what, if any, the side effects would be. Instead she asked, “Have you informed Selar?”  
He waved his hand dismissively. “No need, I’m sure these episodes will pass.” He could only hope his wife believed him and didn’t tell Selar herself.   
Beverly rose to her feet and offered a small, but genuine smile. “Ok then. Well, I’d best get back to the kids.”  
Jean-Luc nodded and returned her smile. “How are they?” he asked softly.  
“They’re ok, James is slowly recovering.”

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Beverly regretted them. She watched as the spark of self-worth her husband had begun to show was snuffed out. He only uttered one word, but it clearly demonstrated his desolation. “Oh.” He then seemed to realise he’d shown too much and deliberately shoved his sorrow aside. “Please give James and Elly my love.”  
“I will.” Beverly replied softly, close to tears. She said nothing more as she left. Deanna rose and looked down at her captain, her expression unreadable.  
“I don’t know why you just lied, Captain,” she said with an undisguised note of hurt, “but I’m hoping you’ll tell me ... eventually.”  
Deanna left then and Jean-Luc closed his eyes in pain and guilt. “I seriously doubt that that I will, Counsellor.” he mused silently. “I don’t intend to tell anybody ... ever.”  
Inside his mind the images of Twenth collecting his semen scrolled remorselessly. Jean-Luc wondered idly if it would eventually make him go mad. A part of him hoped it would.

The next three days were relatively quiet for all concerned on the Enterprise. Jean-Luc had been discharged from sickbay and Beverly had shown extraordinary courage by overcoming her fear enough to allow him to stay in their quarters, although he slept on the sofa.   
James was, at first, very reluctant to be alone with his father, but as time wore on, he began to slowly engage with him. It began with small incidents of talking together and progressed to James allowing his father to play with him. By the end of the first week, both males were fairly comfortable with each other.  
Elly reacted to the calmer domestic atmosphere by being more settled and enjoyed being fed and cuddled by her father. Beverly took things literally one day at a time and, as each day passed, her fear retreated incrementally.  
Katya still refused to see anyone; not even former friends were permitted to enter her quarters. Flowers and gifts were left outside her door but were never taken inside. Katya was cutting herself off completely, making her disconnection from her previous life in Starfleet almost surgical in its precision. She only barely contained her impatience at how long it was taking for the ship to reach its destination. With another eight days to go, she had already packed all her belongings.

Beverly and Jean-Luc had settled the children for the night, James surprising them both by deciding he wanted to sleep in his own bed. They had read to him and tucked him in and the only concession he made to his return to his bedroom was to request his nightlight be brighter than he’d preferred previously. His wish was granted happily, and it was a tired couple who sat in their living area, enjoying the quiet.  
Deanna was due to visit for a joint counselling session, so Beverly eventually rose and made her way to the replicator. “Can I get you anything?” she asked over her shoulder. Jean-Luc began to shake his head but changed his mind. “Yes, would you bring the Cardhu and a tumbler with some ice, please?”  
His reply made Beverly frown and she half turned. “You want real whisky?” she asked in a slightly disapproving tone. Jean-Luc’s expression was mild, but he raised one eyebrow.  
“And ice.” he responded with a hint of defiance.

The silence that followed grew with underlying conflict as Beverly first replicated some finger food for their impending visitor, and then went to the cupboard to retrieve the single malt scotch. She placed the bottle on the low table and then, with a cool look, went back to the replicator to gain the requested tumbler and ice cubes. The ice tinkled in the glass when she plonked it down. It was the only cheerful sound in the room.  
The atmosphere became oppressive as Jean-Luc opened the only recently acquired bottle of rare, authentic whisky, and poured a hefty amount of it over the ice. He then sat back and offered a mute and obviously sarcastic toast before taking two large swallows. He smacked his lips deliberately and then refilled his glass before sitting back and taking another long sip.  
Unable to keep silent any longer in the face of his questionable behaviour, Beverly sat back and crossed her legs, feigning nonchalance. “I’m not sure drinking alcohol is a good idea, Jean-Luc, especially before a counselling session.” she said offhandedly.  
By way of reply, Jean-Luc raised his eyebrows, pulled down his mouth and gave a one shoulder shrug, before taking another sip. He dredged up an unconvincing smile and then decided to add, “Well, I do.”  
Beverly’s smile was cold. “Deanna won’t appreciate it; I know that from personal experience.”

That caught Jean-Luc’s attention. “What does that mean?” he asked warily.  
“It means I tried the blot-everything-out-with-alcohol method, but fortunately Deanna was able to convince me of the folly of that particular path.”   
Jean-Luc opened his mouth to rebut her declaration, but Beverly brushed his attempt aside. “In the long run it doesn’t work, Jean-Luc, it just makes it harder. At some stage you have to face it, alcohol won’t help you to do that. Hiding won’t change anything.”  
He shrugged again but when he spoke there was an unpleasant edge to his tone. “I’m not trying to hide, Beverly. You know me better than that.”  
It was Beverly’s turn to shrug, and what she said by way of reply almost shattered her husband. She’d not intended to hurt him, but her words were devastating.  
“I thought I did.” she said quietly, meaning that she thought he knew the dangers of drinking to forget, but that’s not what Jean-Luc heard. He took it as relating to what he’d done under the kidnapper’s influences. 

His face screwed up in pain and he rose quickly to his feet. He glanced around the room, as if looking for somewhere to go, but other than the bathroom or James’s room, there was nowhere, so he tossed back the remainder of his drink, dropped the tumbler on the floor, snatched the bottle off the table and quickly exited their quarters.   
Beverly, shocked by this turn of events hurried to the door, catching it before it closed. She went out and into the corridor only to see her husband disappearing around a bend. She couldn’t leave the children unattended, so she didn’t go after him. She did the next best thing, though. She called Deanna.

The tormented man had no specific destination in mind; he just wanted to get away. Tears streamed down his face, alarming the few crewmembers he encountered. He ignored their well-intentioned enquiries and hurried along, occasionally swigging from the bottle. His mind was alternatively roiling between dark thoughts and images and a cold blankness that both tempted and frightened him in equal measure.  
He’d been stationary for some minutes before he actually realised where he was. He gasped and shifted his gaze to the wall plaque to verify what he already knew to be true. He was standing outside Katya’s quarters.  
Using his free hand, he pressed the door chime. Nothing happened so he pressed it again. He had no idea why he wanted to see Katya, but he followed what his mind was insisting on, and kept pressing the chime until a very cold and disembodied voice snapped, “Go away, Picard! You’re not welcome here.”

“Please, Katya...” he answered quietly.  
“Fuck off!” the furious voice seethed. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”  
A lifetime of training and discipline kicked in and Jean-Luc reacted automatically. “Ensign Kurnov!” he snapped. “You will show me...”  
The voice, now mocking, interrupted him. “I’m not in Starfleet anymore, Picard. I don’t have to obey you, and the only thing I’m going to show you is this!”  
The door suddenly opened, and Jean-Luc flinched as Katya shoved her hand forward and made an obscene gesture close to his face while saying menacingly, “Now fuck off and leave me alone or I’ll call security.”  
Jean-Luc was as shocked as Katya when he ignored her demand and stepped forward, effectively taking them both inside her quarters.  
Katya’s face slowly morphed into a furious expression. “How dare you!” she spat, clearly struggling to keep control. 

Scrambling for an explanation for his action, Jean-Luc held up his free hand. “We...” he began, then struggled to compose himself. He took a deep breath and then tried again. “We need to talk.”  
“No, we don’t.” Katya replied menacingly. “What I need is for you to leave, immediately!”  
Somehow finding a way to bolster his nerve, Jean-Luc responded quietly, “That will achieve nothing.”  
Katya laughed bitterly. “Oh!” she crowed loudly. “But you’re so wrong, Picard.” She altered her tone to something resembling calm. “You will have left. I’d consider that a very satisfying achievement.”  
Jean-Luc shrugged, then raised the bottle and peered at the contents. “Would you like some?” he asked with eerie calm. “It’s very good authentic scotch ... very old and quite rare.”  
It was a bizarre thing to ask, given the circumstances. Somewhat taken aback, Katya hesitated before she slowly nodded. “Why not?’ she muttered. “I’ve never tried real scotch whisky.”  
In another odd action, instead of requesting a tumbler, Jean-Luc offered the bottle. Katya took it from him and raised it to her lips. At a nod of encouragement from her unwanted guest, she took a small swig. That brought about a protracted fit of coughing.  
Katya handed back the bottle as she shook her head. “Cripes!” she gasped. 

Jean-Luc smiled and looked again at the bottle. “Yes.” he agreed. “That sounds remarkably like my first taste of real whisky.”  
“Hmm.” Katya replied noncommittally. She then cleared her throat, hoping her voice would function normally. “Yeah, well, if I drink alcohol at all, which isn’t often, I prefer a cold beer, preferably Australian.”  
Jean-Luc shrugged and gestured to the seats in the living area. “May we sit?” he asked politely.  
“No.” Katya replied coldly. “You won’t be staying long enough.”  
“Very well.” Jean-Luc replied with a deep sigh. He then gave Katya a steady look and said quietly, “I want to apologise to you, Katya. What happened ... I never meant to...”  
The distressed young woman lifted her hands as she backed away. “Shut up!” she hissed. “I’m not interested in hearing your pathetic excuses.”  
Jean-Luc’s expression clearly showed his anguish. “I’m not attempting to excuse my behaviour, Katya, there is no excuse, but I know what you’re going throu...” His head bowed and his shoulders slumped as the weight of his self-imposed guilt robbed him of the ability to witness Katya’s distress and hatred.

After a moment’s silence Katya’s voice broke as she began to sob, “You don’t know, Picard! You have no idea what your actions caused me!” Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for breath. “My life has been ruined.” her voice trailed off and in the otherwise silent room, Jean-Luc listened to her sobbing.   
He slowly lifted his head and, although he spoke quietly, it was with such intensity that Katya heard him despite her ragged crying. “But I do know, Katya. I do.”  
Anger quickly replaced distress and anguish as Katya almost snarled. “How dare you say that you fucking prick?” she shouted, absolutely furious, but before she could add anything further, Jean-Luc spoke again.  
“Are you aware of my assimilation by the Borg?” he asked quietly.  
Suddenly silenced, Katya frowned and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes.” she responded warily. “What of it? What’s that got to do with anything?”  
Instead of answering, Jean-Luc continued, “Yes, it’s common knowledge.” He nodded then carried on as if he were talking to himself. “But my abduction by Madred isn’t.”  
“What?” Katya said curtly. “Who or what is Madred?”

Her query broke through Jean-Luc’s distracted haze. His head snapped up and he locked his gaze on Katya’s. “Madred is, or perhaps was, a Cardassian Gul who kidnapped me and used extensive methods of torture to try and break me.”  
“Oh.” Katya replied weakly, unsure as to where the conversation was going.  
“Yes, oh.” Jean-Luc summoned a chilly smile. “He succeeded, by the way.”  
Oozing disinterest, Katya adopted an insolent pose. “So?” she sneered. “I suppose you’re now going to try to tell me that space is a dangerous place, or that being in Starfleet makes the chances of something shitty happening is more than likely, or maybe you’re just going to try and equate what happened to you as being somehow as horrendous as what you did to me?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged, only serving to increase Katya’s anger. He then nodded his head. “What I did to you was horrendous, I know that, but it might help you to know that on both the occasions I mentioned, I was also raped.”  
Shocked into silence, all Katya could do was stare. Jean-Luc took that opportunity to expound on his revelation. “When I was assimilated, the Borg raped my mind. They took my knowledge of Starfleet and violated the memories of my life’s experiences and used all that information to attack Earth.” He sighed deeply and shook his head, his voice reduced to a whisper. “Over eleven thousand Federation citizens died in the battle at Wolf 359.”  
Katya said nothing as he continued. “Madred did something similar in that he violated my dignity, my humanity.”

Those last words seemed to reignite Katya’s fury. “Your dignity was violated?” she said with caustic mockery. “Your fucking dignity?” She threw her hands into the air and gaped. “Oh, you poor thing. However did you cope?”  
Jean-Luc didn’t appear to have heard her as he continued quietly, “And then of course there’s what the kidnappers did to me.”  
“Oh, yeah!” Katya snapped her fingers. “That’s right, they gave you some drugs. Big fucking deal.”  
His eyes refocussed and he clenched his jaw with determination. “They did, yes, but they did more ... they did other things to me. Worse things.”  
“Like what?” Katya spat. “Did they disrespect you, Picard?” she laughed sarcastically. “Did Captain Picard lose his shit over the big bad kidnappers treating him badly?”  
“Actually,” he replied with eerie calm, “I lost my shit over the fact they repeatedly raped me.”

Katya barely missed a beat. “Yeah, yeah ... they fucked your mind and violated your dignity.” She sighed theatrically. “So? You still have no clue what it was like for me.”  
It was Jean-Luc’s bleak, yet flat tone that told Katya she had misread his statement. “No.” he clarified softly. “They raped me anally and orally and they also raped me by performing oral sex on me.” He sighed and tried to shake off the rapidly gathering panic. “So, although I can’t imagine exactly what you endured, Katya, I do understand how violated you feel. I feel that too. But there’s more. They orally raped me to obtain several semen samples. They stole that from me, and I don’t know what they intend to do with it.”

Finally deflated, Katya walked stiffly to the sofa and sat, barely noticing when Jean-Luc did the same on the one spare chair. The two emotionally battered people sat in a long silence before Katya lifted her bowed head and speared her former captain with an uncompromising stare.  
“What does Troi say about it?” she asked, only just managing to keep the derision she felt from her tone.  
By way of reply, Jean-Luc shrugged and then took a large swig from the bottle. He then sighed and decided Katya deserved an answer. “I haven’t told her.”  
That revelation confused Katya and it showed in her expression. “Why not?” she asked somewhat aggressively.  
Jean-Luc shrugged again, but added, “I don’t feel it’s necessary for her to know.”

Katya mulled over that for a few seconds before deciding to store it in her mind for later consideration. “Ok, so what about your wife? What’s she got to say about it?” Katya watched carefully and was rewarded when she detected the barely perceptible flash of guilt and shame that flickered across Jean-Luc’s face. She was confident she knew the answer, but she asked anyway, “You have told her, haven’t you?”  
Savage amusement almost made Katya laugh out loud on seeing the man’s discomfort. “Yeah!” she crowed triumphantly to herself. “Squirm, you prick!”   
“No.” he replied in a rough voice, causing him to cough to clear his throat. “No.” he repeated more clearly, and then shifted on the chair. “I don’t think there’s anything to gain by burdening her ... or anyone else, for that matter, with the information I just imparted.” His face took on a worried look. “And I must ask you to keep my confidence, Katya.” He lifted his free hand in a pleading gesture and added softly, “Please.”

Anger reasserted itself and Katya rose quickly to her feet. “You fucking coward, Picard!” she spat with genuine venom. “You’re too ashamed to confess to those who you should tell, yet you dump your dirty confessions on me, then tell me you’re not going to tell anyone else...” she was so angry she actually choked on her words. Taking a deep breath, she managed to gain some control over her voice. “And now you ask that I keep it as some kind of fucking, disgusting secret?”  
She took two steps towards the still seated man, making him briefly wonder if she was going to attack him. He offered no defence, he remained seated and still. Somehow Katya stopped herself from doing what she so badly wanted to. She was yearning to smash her fist into her tormenter’s face, so much so that both her hands were tightly fisted, but she caught herself in time. Looming over the man she said with heated intensity, “Why did you tell me?”  
Jean-Luc looked up into her blazing eyes and mustered all of his legendary calm. “I told you because I thought...” his brows lowered, and tears filled his eyes. “I hoped it might help you to know.”  
Katya straightened and made the effort required to relax her hands. She then sent a hate-filled stare at her former commander. “It does help, Picard.” 

His expression registered his belief that the comment was agreeing that it did actually help, but before Jean-Luc could form any reply her next words devastated him. “It helps me a lot to know how badly your experiences with the kidnappers have affected you. Every time I recall how ashamed you are, every time I imagine the scenes of your violations it’ll help me immensely.”  
A cold grin crept across her face. “Especially as we both know what happened to you was so richly deserved.”  
Katya looked on in savagely satisfied silence as the broken man got to his feet and left her quarters. She remained standing, staring at the closed doors for a long time after he’d gone.

Deanna hadn’t been able to come immediately when Beverly had called her. There were times, when she was dealing with a delicate psychological issue with a patient, where she simply couldn’t just stop and walk out on the session.  
Having seen her patient through their crisis, Deanna hurried to Beverly’s quarters and listened with quickly growing concern as her friend recounted what had happened to precipitate Jean-Luc’s departure. As she left the quarters, she queried the computer as to the whereabouts of the captain.  
She found him in a seldom-used lounge on a deck deep in the bowels of the ship. The lights were out as she entered, but by the light streaming in from the corridor she saw the man in question sitting on the floor at the far end of the room, drinking from a bottle.

He gave no acknowledgment of her presence, other than to gesture with the bottle in a mock salute, and then to take another swig.  
Deanna refrained from saying anything as she allowed the doors to close and then moved carefully to his side where she gracefully sank to the floor and seated herself beside him, her shoulder mere centimetres from his.  
To break the ice, she asked with gentle sarcasm, “So, do you come here often?”  
Jean-Luc snorted and took another swig. “No.” he replied after he’d swallowed. “You?”  
“No, not often.” Deanna replied, frowning at how difficult he was making it to sense his emotions. Since his mind melds with Spock and Sarek, and coupled with his own natural mental strength, her captain had developed very effective ways to successfully block her. She sighed with exasperation and irritation at his stubbornness. “It doesn’t help, Captain.”  
Despite the non-clarification of her remark, Jean-Luc knew exactly what she was referring to and smiled grimly. “Perhaps.” He agreed but lifted his free hand to tap his temple. “But at least allow me to exert some control over my privacy.” He sighed and added, “It’s about the only thing I have any control over.”

Immediately on alert, Deanna asked quickly, “What do you mean by that, Captain?”  
Too late he realised the alcohol had eroded his vigilance. Cursing inwardly, he summoned a wry smile and adopted nonchalance he certainly didn’t feel. “Nothing.” he replied quietly. “Nothing at all, I’m fine.”  
Deanna decided to let the comment pass, at least for now. Instead she made a show of looking at the seats and then at the floor. “Do you find the seats in here uncomfortable?” she asked curiously as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.  
“No.” His voice was oddly tinged with anger as he patted the floor. “It’s just not so far to fall.” His smile lacked any warmth as he added dryly, “Less likelihood of injury.”  
His reply saddened and angered the Betazoid in equal measure. “So, you intend to drink the remainder of the bottle’s contents and become so inebriated that you’ll topple over?” Before he could answer, she continued with, “And then what?”  
He shrugged and took another swallow. “Then...” he snapped his fingers. “I sleep.”  
“And when you wake up, not only will you suffer the effects of your over-indulgence, but also the knowledge that nothing has changed.” Deanna sighed with irritation at having to state something so obvious. “Whatever has caused you to go down this path needs to be addressed, Captain.” she said quietly. “Not masked with alcohol.”

Jean-Luc took another swig and then held up his index finger. “Now that’s somewhat ambiguous, Counsellor.” he murmured, his speech slightly slurred. “Are you referring to the reason why I chose this path...” he held up the near empty bottle to indicate he meant his drinking, “rather than some other form of escape, or are you referring to my recent experiences as being the cause of my decision to have a drink or two?”  
He didn’t see Deanna’s sad grimace. “I think you’ll find they’re one and the same.” she said quietly.   
Lifting the bottle one final time, Jean-Luc drained the remaining whisky in two large swallows. He then placed the bottle carefully on the floor before rising unsteadily to his feet.  
Deanna watched in worried silence as he meandered to the replicator and ordered another bottle of authentic whisky. He had to use his command code to override the alcohol lock out, and he engaged in a heated, though one sided battle with the computer over his off-duty status, but he eventually won the confrontation by asking the computer if his request for a real alcohol drink was a command decision. The computer couldn’t determine that, so ultimately had to accede to his request.  
Having successfully navigated his way back to his chosen spot, Jean-Luc sat heavily on the floor and spent a moment or two opening the new bottle. He glared at it and muttered, “This’ll be nowhere near as good as the Cardhu,” before sending Deanna a mock salute and swigging three large swallows. He grimaced and sneered at the bottle but took another swallow before sighing and closing his eyes.

Deanna knew that at this point there was no sense in trying to talk with the man. He had clearly demonstrated his intention to drink himself into unconsciousness. She rose to her feet and quietly left, her mind busy as she sorted through her options. 

A week had passed, and the Enterprise was only two days away from their destination. The starbase had been informed that the ship would be leaving one civilian individual who had requested passage back to Earth. Arrangements were being undertaken to provide a berth on a freighter, due within the week. Katya maintained a cool, carefully constructed attitude, as Will explained the arrangements so far, and she even summoned a perfunctory smile by way of thanks.  
Once the tall acting captain had left, Katya stalked around her quarters, impatient and angry that she couldn’t make things happen sooner.  
“Three more days here, on the ship, then maybe four or five on the starbase before I begin my journey home.” She sighed as she plonked herself down on the bed. “Home.” She sighed, her mood quickly shifting from pent up boredom and irritation to bleak despondency. 

She allowed her body to fall backwards and she lay still, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. “My family.” She thought, her face grimacing. “I can’t face them.” She closed her eyes and two tears slipped free. Rather than descend into sorrow, anger and anguish; she instead directed her mind to the task of disappearing. “It won’t be forever.” she reasoned. “Just until I find my balance, ‘til I gather the strength ... and the distance I need to before I have to face anyone.”  
That determination brought a deep frown. “But I’m going to have to keep everyone in the dark. No official announcement of my arrival back on Earth, and no family communiqués to Starfleet.”  
She abruptly sat up, her face set in a fierce mask. “Starfleet is going to have to help me with this. I may no longer be a member, but what happened occurred while I was on active duty. They’ll have to agree to assist me, especially if I have a medical opinion to back me up.”

Deciding to strike while she still felt confident, Katya summoned Deanna Troi.

The counsellor had endured a frustrating week since her encounter with Jean-Luc. As she’d predicted, he’d woken the next day horribly hung over and no further along with being able to receive any psychological help. Being diligent and terribly worried, Deanna had tried several times to get him to agree to be counselled, but he rebuffed her each time.  
She wasn’t sure he was still repeatedly drinking himself into oblivion, although his appearance certainly seemed to suggest he was, but as he was also ravaged by grief, shame and guilt it wasn’t unreasonable to ascribe his dishevelled appearance and obvious weight loss to that.

Deanna was in the Picard’s quarters, waiting patiently while her distraught friend quietly wept. “I don’t know what to do, Deanna.” Beverly lamented brokenly. “I want to help him, but I don’t know how.” Before Deanna could respond, Beverly lifted her head and the anger and hurt in her friend’s face almost made her gasp. “Not that he’d let me.” she shook her head. “He’s so damned stubborn!” she snapped. “He’d rather wallow in his martyrdom than accept any help from me or anyone else.”  
The redhead swiped a tissue over her eyes in short, angry actions. “I take it he’s still drinking?” she asked, her tone derisive.  
In the long silence that followed, Beverly had the good grace to bow her head and apologise. “I’m sorry, Deanna.” she said contritely. “I know you can’t discuss him with me.” She took a deep breath. “It’s just that...”  
“You care.” Deanna finished for her.  
“Yeah.” Beverly replied sadly.

“You still love him?” Deanna asked quietly, genuinely curious to find the truth.   
For a long, terrible moment Deanna feared Beverly was going to answer in the negative, but she needn’t have worried. Summoning a sad, tired smile, Beverly nodded slowly and replied softly, “Yes.” Her smile strengthened a little. “Yes, Deanna, I still love him.” Fresh tears emerged as Deanna moved to sit beside her best friend and wrap her in an embrace. She held the weeping woman for several minutes before Beverly recovered her equilibrium.  
The doctor disengaged herself and rose to her feet. She walked the short distance to the viewports to stare out into the cold void of space and asked softly, “Can you help him?”  
Deanna knew with certainty that only the brutal truth would suffice. “Not until he lets me.”  
Beverly already knew that, but hearing it made her anger spike. She turned abruptly and snapped, “Then force him to comply! Make it an order!” Defiance and cold anger distorted Beverly’s normally lovely features. “He’s still in Starfleet; he’s still bound by the oaths he took, one of which was to obey!”

Rising slowly to her feet, Deanna schooled her expression into one of professional calm. “That would be counterproductive.” she replied quietly, but firmly. “If I ordered him to undergo counselling against his will, just how far do you’d think I’d get?” The petite woman sighed and softened her tone. “He’s mentally strong, Beverly, proficient and well-practised in shutting me out. There’d be nothing to gain, it would only frustrate both of us, and more than likely make him even less likely to willingly submit to counselling later, when he’s had a chance to accept that he can be counselled.”  
Beverly’s shoulders rose and fell as she sighed deeply. “If only I’d have thought before I spoke.”  
Tilting her head, Deanna sought to clarify the remark. “Are you referring to your comment about how you thought you knew him? The one he mistook to believe was about his actions while held captive?”  
“Uh huh.” Beverly grimaced. “Like I told you when it happened, I meant it as an admonishment for his sudden decision to dull his pain with alcohol.” Her expression clearly showed her worry and exasperation with her husband’s choice. “But of course, what I said only made matters worse.”

Deanna wasn’t going to coddle Beverly, the incident, as unfortunate as it was, was in the past. “You’re not to blame for his misreading of your comment, Beverly, nor are you responsible for his less than wise choice to use alcohol as a crutch.” Deanna paused and added some steel to her voice. “And to be brutally honest, this self-flagellation of yours is not very helpful for either of us.”  
Beverly’s head snapped up and her eyes blazed. “I beg your pardon?” she asked in heated anger. “Since when do you deliberately insult your patients?”  
Deanna’s small, knowing smile only served to rile Beverly further. “You think this is funny?” she asked rhetorically and loudly, her voice rising with her emotions. Deanna chose to not respond verbally. She adopted a bland expression and waited.  
With no more direct provocation from Deanna, Beverly’s anger quickly subsided. Defeated and deflated, she went to the sofa and sat heavily before leaning forward, planting her elbows on her knees, and cradling her head in her hands.  
“Shit.” she muttered quietly.

Deanna joined her and, although unseen by Beverly, offered a smile of commiseration. Her tone, however, was unmistakably sympathetic. “I know you understand that none of what’s happened is your fault, but I know that pointing that out isn’t very productive, because it’s hard for you to feel otherwise.” Deanna allowed a small pause before adding, “But I feel there’s unresolved anger in you, Beverly, anger that’s holding you back. Anger over what happened while you were held captive is understandable, but there’s more, isn’t there.”

It wasn’t a question and Beverly didn’t treat it as such, yet she was reluctant to reply. Deanna allowed a long silence, but she knew the problem had to be exposed. “I know I’m right, Beverly. If you won’t address this now, it’ll only be that much harder down the track.” The dark-haired woman sighed. “It’ll grow inside you until it becomes insurmountable, and when that happens it’ll burst out of you in an uncontrolled explosion of emotion.” Deanna sighed and watched as Beverly’s shoulders trembled as she wept. “That explosion will be devastating, Beverly, but the consequences may well be worse.”  
Beverly’s head rose slowly, and she turned her tear-streaked face towards her friend in silent enquiry.  
“Anyone who bears the brunt of that explosion, or even witnesses it, is going to be damaged, but more than that, anyone who you specifically single out to be a target will be damaged in ways that could well prove to be permanent.”  
Deanna kept her uncompromising gaze steady. “Especially if that person is someone you love.”   
“Jean-Luc.” Beverly whispered.

“Beverly,” Deanna continued gently. “Anger over what he did while under the influence of the drugs is perfectly understandable. Your analytical mind might very reasonably tell you that it wasn’t his fault, that he had no control whatsoever over his actions, but there’s no denying that what happened to you and Katya was perpetrated by your husband, a man you love, your soul mate. But even though the anger you feel over those events is justified, there’s something else. Tell me, Beverly. Let’s tackle this now.”  
Beverly’s head turned as she redirected her eyes to the viewports. For a moment Deanna thought she might rise and go to stand by them, turning her back on both Deanna and the subject. But Beverly was nothing if not courageous. She spoke quietly but with enough strength to be heard.  
“It’s his refusal to act on the information we had about the cult.” She sighed and turned back to Deanna. “We’d had a fight about it... and I resolved to leave with Katya and the kids if he’d didn’t change his mind.”  
“You felt that strongly about it?”

After sending Deanna a long look, Beverly nodded. “To me ... and Katya, I guess, it was a no-brainer.” She stood then and began to pace. “I couldn’t understand how he could make such a unilateral decision; I mean if nothing else, what about the safety of our kids? He refused to listen to me; he preferred to dig his heels in ... Stubbornly rejecting my very real concerns.”  
“That doesn’t sound like him.” Deanna observed carefully. “Was there a reason for him to behave so atypically?”  
The counsellor knew she’d hit a nerve when she saw Beverly flinch. She hesitated and Deanna felt the outpouring of guilt and shame emanating from her friend.   
“There’d been some ... difficulties between us.”  
“What kind of difficulties?”

Beverly stopped pacing and glared defiantly but failed to maintain it as embarrassment took over. “I’d lied to him and he found out.”  
Deanna knew these people very well and she knew that for her captain to react as he had to the threat the cult posed, he must have been significantly affected by Beverly’s lie. “Just how bad was it?” Deanna asked silently. “What had she done?”  
Although Deanna hadn’t voiced her questions, Beverly knew they were in her mind. She took a deep breath and did what she could to bolster her dignity.  
“I’d been unwell...” Beverly began haltingly. “It wasn’t anything too bad, but it was a condition that was proving difficult to treat. I knew that if I told Jean-Luc about it he’d fuss ... you know ... smother me and I, well I, I couldn’t be bothered by it, so although Selar had given him, with my permission, an explanation of what he read in my medical files, I downplayed it.” Beverly rolled her hand as she added, “To put his mind to rest, you know?”  
This confession was bad enough, but Deanna sensed there was more. “But?”  
Offering an irritated sigh, Beverly sneered. “I wasn’t getting any better, in fact the condition was worsening to the point it was becoming difficult to hide, so I contacted the resort doctor. Unfortunately, the examination, tests and scans he wanted to do meant that I had to go to his clinic.”

In the face of Deanna’s stoic silence, Beverly threw her hands up in exasperation. “Ok!” she snapped waspishly. “I told Jean-Luc I was taking Elly to the clinic for a regular post-natal check-up. I organised it so that Katya to come with me, and I suggested that he spend some quality time with James while we were gone.”  
“I see.” Was the only thing Deanna said, but she was deeply shocked. Her captain’s over-the-top reaction to the threat took on a very different slant when viewed from this new perspective. They were already angry with each other before they knew the threat even existed. Thinking quickly, Deanna asked, “So what happened? You didn’t leave?”  
“No.” Beverly replied, her defiant haughtiness vanishing, yet she somehow found something that caused a wry smile. “I had to stay; at least until I knew he was ok.”  
“Why?” asked a now intensely curious Deanna.  
Beverly’s smile grew, but Deanna easily sensed the underlying sympathy and concern her outward amusement hid. “Jean-Luc sustained a very painful, though thankfully not serious, injury. I treated him and decided to stay to make sure he was ok once he’d rested.”

Seeing the look of surprised suspicion on Deanna’s face, Beverly was quick to allay her fears. “I didn’t do it!” she all but chuckled.  
Deanna’s openly sceptical look garnered a more strident protest of innocence. “Honestly, Dee, I didn’t do it, I didn’t even cause it!”  
Once again schooling her features, the counsellor asked, “So what happened to him?”  
Beverly had to stifle an embarrassed giggle. “James kicked him fair and square in the balls.”

Deanna knew it couldn’t have been a deliberate act, but she still had to know. “How?” she squeaked, but then added, “Why?”  
Beverly sobered as her amusement faded with the memories of the incident. “It was an accident, as I’m sure you’d guess.” She sighed then sat. “Jean-Luc was seated, and James came barrelling into the room in his usual exuberant rush and launched himself at his father. Jean-Luc was quick enough to catch him ok, but he sort of half rose to absorb the impact. James’ feet swung back behind him, then gravity and momentum took over and they swung back at speed.”  
Beverly frowned and offered a troubled expression. “James had his shoes on, and his feet made a direct impact with Jean-Luc’s testicles.”  
“Oh.” Deanna gasped, while wincing. “God, that must’ve hurt.”  
“Oh, you bet it did.” Beverly agreed. “So much so that poor Jean-Luc collapsed onto the floor and vomited .... repeatedly. It was some time before he could move ... I couldn’t even examine him for quite a while.”  
“So?”

“Well, Katya cleaned up the mess, and then she assisted me in getting him to our bedroom. I examined him, but due to a previously administered analgesic to treat a sore neck he got from sleeping on the sofa overnight, there was nothing I could do but reassure him that there was no permanent damage.”  
“And he had spent the night on the sofa because...?”  
“Of our fight over first my lying to him, then his refusal to leave over the threat.”  
“I see.” Deanna sighed. “So, he changed his mind?”  
“Yes.” Beverly shrugged. “When he woke his attitude was completely different, and he readily agreed that we should leave. We’d packed and were at the resort’s main building to check out when everything went crazy.”  
“But by then it was too late.” Deanna remarked.  
“Yes.”  
“So, your anger isn’t so much about his previous intractability, but the fact that his initial refusal to leave led to the eventual situation.”  
“Yes.”  
Deanna rose and went to the replicator, quickly returning with two hot drinks. Beverly accepted hers and sighed in appreciation as the aroma of chamomile tea reached her nostrils.  
“Your anger over that is justified, Beverly, as is Katya’s.” Deanna sipped her hot chocolate and gave more thought to her words. “But it’s also true that we all make mistakes.” She gave Beverly a penetrating look. “And you must also concede that the captain may not have been thinking clearly, given your betrayal of trust.”  
An acerbic reply rose in Beverly, but it never left her lips. She knew the truth of Deanna’s pronouncement and lowered her head in defeat. She was comforted by Deanna’s warm hand on her forearm. “This isn’t an ideal situation, Beverly, but it’s not insurmountable.”

“What about Jean-Luc?” Beverly asked plaintively.  
“One thing at a time.” Deanna advised. “He has to admit he can be helped first.”  
Shaking her head, Beverly’s sadness was obvious. “He was willing, Deanna. Until I made that stupid comment...”  
“Stop!” Deanna barked forcefully. “Stop right there. We’re not going to go back over this. We’ve established that what occurred then is in the past. Jean-Luc Picard is responsible for the choices he’s made and it’s Jean-Luc Picard who’ll have to come to terms with them.”

“Yeah.” Beverly agreed sadly. “But it’s also Jean-Luc Picard who’s slowly sinking into a very particular kind of hell, a hell that only he can experience.”  
“That’s true,” Deanna sighed, but then added firmly, “lucky for him he’s got us ready and willing to offer the way out and the means to achieve it.”  
Deanna left Beverly’s quarters soon after.


	6. Chapter 6

Katya gave Deanna a slightly imperious look, doing what she could to accentuate the height advantage she had over the diminutive Betazoid. Despite the fact that there was little she could do to intimidate Deanna, Katya was determined to gain, then hold, the upper hand. In order to affect that, the younger woman adopted a somewhat aggressive attitude.  
“I want you to provide a medical evaluation that’ll compel Starfleet to afford me absolute privacy.”

The demand caused a frown to mar Deanna’s brow. “I’m not sure I understand.” she said warily. “Starfleet respects the privacy of its members as a matter of course.”  
A cool, sardonic smile crept across Katya’s face. “Two things, Counsellor.” she said sarcastically. “One: I’m not in Starfleet any more, and two: Starfleet regularly deals with the families of members ... even ex-members, especially...” she leaned closer, her eyes narrowing. “ex-members who’ve suffered deep psychological and physical trauma whilst on duty.”  
“That’s true.” Deanna nodded calmly. “But why are you asking for a medical authorisation? Do you believe a simple request by you for privacy wouldn’t be granted?”  
Katya shrugged and stalked to the other side of the smallish living area. “I know they’d agree, but it’d be lip service only. You and I both know that an organisation as big as Starfleet has instances of communication snafus. All it’d take is one mistyped keystroke, or a careless comment, and the cat would be out of the bag.”

“But a medical authorisation?” Deanna left the question hanging. Katya smiled coldly and answered it.  
“Would be backed by law. With an official medical authorisation insisting I be afforded absolute privacy ... due to my injuries ... Starfleet would be far more conscientious about maintaining the required silence.”  
“Because the consequences of failure would be very costly.” Deanna nodded.  
“Indeed.” Katya offered as she inclined her head. “The damage to their reputation alone would set back recruitment, never mind the inevitable lawsuit, which I’m confident I’d win,” her grin widened. “With a hefty monetary compensation, of course.”  
Deanna stayed calm, allowing the woman’s ever-present anger to wash harmlessly over her. “Well, there’s no arguing that you have certainly suffered significant trauma, both psychological and physical,” Deanna bolstered her mental defences against what her next words would cause. “And of course, your pregnancy...”

It was as if a switch had been thrown. Katya took three quick steps to bring her too close to Deanna. With her fists tightly clenched and her jaw muscles tensing, Katya snarled menacingly, “Shut your mouth, Counsellor. Don’t say another word about that.”  
Every fibre of Deanna’s being told her to run, but she stood her ground, keeping her gaze trained on the seething woman’s eyes. “I understand your position, Katya. Your intense emotions emanating from this would lead me to agree to your request.” sShe finished quietly. How she stayed so outwardly calm was testament to her grim determination to not be cowed. Into the tense silence that followed she added quietly, “I’ll forward the authorisation as soon as I...” she didn’t finish her sentence.  
Katya’s face slowly transformed from fiercely threatening into a shocking grimace of pain. As she slowly crumpled to the floor, her hands clutched her lower abdomen as a piteously thin wail emanated from her gaping mouth. Deanna dropped to her knees, one hand automatically slapping her communicator. “Medical emergency, crew quarters, room 237, deck 18!”

Deanna ignored the reply as she tried to offer some help. She suspected she knew what was happening and this was confirmed by the slowly spreading bloom of blood that was already seeping from Katya’s saturated clothing. Deanna gritted her teeth and said firmly, “Hold on, Katya, help is on its way.”

Although relieved of duty, Jean-Luc still rose to his feet as Deanna’s urgent call for medical assistance was made. Many years of service as captain had his body tense and his mind automatically sifting through the call, trying to identify the occupant of the quoted quarter’s location.   
When that information didn’t surface immediately, he took a few steps towards the door, determined to attend the emergency. But a quick glance over his shoulder and the half -full bottle of scotch standing on the floor made him hesitate. The last thing he wanted was for Deanna ... or his wife, to smell the alcohol on his breath.

That would only make them look for, and no doubt find, the tell-tale physical signs of his drunkenness. And that, he grunted as he thought to himself sourly, was more than enough reason to make him reconsider his plan.  
He made his unsteady way back to his place on the floor and took a hefty swig. He mulled over the situation, and then clumsily snapped his fingers as an idea dawned.  
“Computer,” he said slowly, doing his best to not slur. “Who occupies crew quarters 237, deck 18?”  
“Crew quarters 237, deck 18 were occupied by ensigns Raymond Ferris and Katya Kurnov, but on the resignation from StarfleetStarfleet of ensign Kurnov, she now occupies the quarters alone. Ensign Raymond Ferris now resides in...”  
Jean-Luc didn’t hear the rest of the computer’s pronouncement. His sluggish mind had suddenly focused as his stomach soured. He blinked as tears overflowed his eyes.  
“Deanna’s in Katya’s quarters and there’s been a medical emergency.” hHe mumbled, his mind already furnishing the likely scenario. He lifted the bottle and stared at it before putting it to his lips and quickly draining what remained. He then hoisted himself to his feet and shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He made it out the door, and by steadying himself with one hand against the wall, set off for his destination.

The tension in sickbay was already high as Katya was brought in. The select few who’d been briefed about the emergency had already cordoned off a section of the bay to deal with the emergency. Deanna stood at the head of the biobed, holding Katya’s hand while Beverly and two nurses worked at the other end.   
Katya was naked, with her top half covered by a warming blanket. Her legs were parted and bent at the knees as Beverly began the task of safely delivering the embryos one by one.  
With the bleeding under control, Beverly looked up and offered an encouraging smile. “The labour won’t last long, Katya but if necessary, I can administer a light anaesthetic and remove the embryos surgically.”  
Katya nodded, then grimaced as another contraction hit. She recovered after a few moments to ask, “Why was there so much blood?”  
The question made Beverly frown as she formed her reply. “One or more of the embryos seemed to have adhered to the uterine wall. Each time there’s a contraction, some tearing is occurring.”  
“That’s not normal, though, is it?” Katya asked, her face clearly showing her worry.  
“Well, no.” Beverly replied cautiously. “But the embryos are malformed, so...”

The look of revulsion on Katya’s face made Beverly shiver. “It’s no wonder.” Katya snarled. “With that rapist prick, Picard, as the father.”  
It was just as her last word was spoken that Jean-Luc blundered into the closed off area. He stood slack-jawed, staring shocked and aghast at the scene before him. Katya reacted faster than the others. “Get out, you fucking bastard!” she screamed, her body writhing as another contraction hit.  
Katya screamed again, incoherent curses flying from her mouth. Deanna, seeing that Beverly couldn’t leave her patient, quickly moved to her captaincaptain, and took him by the elbow. Employing a tone she rarely used she barked harshly, “Come with me immediately!”  
He offered no protest or resistance as he was led from the area. Deanna detected the smell of alcohol and quickly assessed his state. She summoned a nurse who in turn quietly summoned Selar. Jean-Luc was ushered into his private room and given a drug to sober him up.  
Both Deanna and Selar were very worried when, after the drug had done its job, he remained conscious, but unresponsive, sitting on his bed and staring vacantly at the floor. Deanna knew she had a new battle on her hands.

Lannit Yan was seriously bored. Two weeks had passedpassed, and he still had another two to go before he reached his destination. “Half way.” he murmured darkly. “Two more fucking weeks until I get there.”  
He’d tired of using his sex toys, he’d tired of dreaming up ever-increasingly elaborate ways to molest his victims in such a way as to satisfy his dark lust, yet avoid detection, in fact he’d soon tired of all the ways to alleviate his boredom. He was such a shallow being, intelligent, but due to his chronic criminality, poorly educated. He’d succeeded in his life by using his innate guile, his rat cunning, but he was so dedicated to his perversions, so focused on feeding his dark urges, that when he was unable to do those things, he soon lost the ability to amuse himself.

He briefly considered using his favourite masturbatory toy, but its use was spoiled by his recent fantasies. So gross and dark were the images in his mind that they overwhelmed any physical sensations he’d experience while masturbating. He snarled and threw the glass he’d been drinking alcohol from, sneering nastily as it shattered against the wall.  
He rose to his feet and moved to the desk, situated in the living area of his quarters. He decided to try and distract himself by seeing if there were any likely planets nearby, a world where he could find a victim to alleviate his increasing lust. “Oh, yes.” hHe muttered with cold menace. “I need a toy, something warm, tight and able to articulate pain.”  
He took a seat at the large monitor screen and barked out his command. “Computer, scan for nearby inhabited planets.”  
He only had to wait a few seconds before he received the computer’s reply. “There are two inhabited planets within 1.5 light years of your current position.”  
Lannit’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as if he was already smelling the fear of his victim. “Are the inhabitants sentient?”   
“Yes. Both planets have are populated by sentient beings as inhabitants.”  
“Adjust course for the nearest of the two planets and increase speed by a factor of 3.”  
He ignored the chime of compliance, his twisted and grotesque mind already plotting the abduction of his victim ... or victims.

Rurke’s feet were propped on the console as he lightly dozed, catching some much-needed sleep while he could. Unlike Lannit, the viridian was far from bored. He found himself constantly busy, undertaking several tasks at once in order to fulfil his employer’s wishes.  
The programs dedicated to decrypting Lannit’s covert enquiries were bearing fruit, and with the increasing amounts of information, came Rurke’s expansion of his own enquiries. The employer had impressed upon Rurke the need to dismantle Lannit’s network of informants and enablers.   
Beings like Lannit Yan depended on others, those who shared his perversions, and those beings had to be made aware of the folly of associating any longer with him. How far Rurke went in his mission to dissuade these individuals, and what methods he used to achieve that, he hadn’t yet decided, but he knew that by cutting Lannit off from his support network he would make his job that much easier. So, when his ship’s computer sounded a quiet alarm, Rurke was instantly alert, his feet meeting the floor and his body tensing.

It was the work of mere seconds to see what the computer had alerted him to. Lannit’s ship had changed course and speed. A quick enquiry of his computer furnishing Rurke with a likely motive for such a manoeuvre. The broker’s face settled into a grim mask as he shook his head. “You sick, twisted bastard, Lannit Yan.” he muttered. “You just can’t control yourself, can you?it,” He sneered as he shook his head in disgust. “ You won’t even try.”  
With an angry sigh, the viridian ordered a course and speed change. He would continue to shadow his quarry while he contacted his employer. It may be that Rurke might be permitted to prevent what he felt sure Lannit was going to do. He’d enjoy that. A predatory smile emerged as Rurke nodded slowly. “Yes, two birds with one stone. I save some beings from becoming his victims and I get to redirect Lannit Yan’s thought processes. By the use of force, I hope.”  
Having sent the request for communication, Rurke strolled around the bridge, stopping by a specially built storage unit. Inside it, held in stasis, was the container that held Jean-Luc’s semen. The broker sighed and shook his head. “I understand the desirsire for profit,.” he mused. “But to go to such lengths...”  
He shrugged, trying to dismiss his troubling thoughts. He’d been a broker for a long time, longer than most who plied his particular trade, but his career’s longevity was due more to his scrupulous loyalty to his employers than the methods of retribution he used if there were any attempts to deceive.   
His employer’s motives, for whatever they wished him to achieve, were none of his business, “But,” he sighed heavily as he realised this particular job was beginning to vex him. “Still,” he reasoned. “If I get to eliminate a being like Lannit Yan, it’ll be worth it.”   
The softly strobing light on his console alerted him to his anticipated reply. He toggled to activator and adopted a respectful mien. His employer’s expression was bland, to say the least. “Yes, Rurke?” he said quietly.   
“Sir,” Rurke replied in an equally subdued tone, “Lannit Yan has made an unscheduled alteration to his course and speed. As there are two inhabited planets within easy reach of him at this time, I feel confident in offering the opinion that he intends to procure some females to violate.”

The employer gave a slow nod. “That would be consistent with his past actions.” The older being sighed. “Normally I couldn’t care less what he chose to do, but as he’s in my employ, I expect obedience. He was ordered to take a direct route to the first of his procurement planets. At no time was he permitted to make any course or speed changes without first seeking permission.”  
The broker stayed silent.  
“Is he aware of your presence?”  
“I don’t think he is.” The viridian replied. “I seriously doubt he would’ve deviated from his course if he knew I was shadowing him.”  
“Hmm.” The employer hummed thoughtfully. “He is wily, though.”  
“You’re considering he might be attempting a double-bluff?”

“I am, yes, although I think it’s unlikely. However, intervening in this matter could tip your hand, and if he is indeed unaware of your presence, there’s no doubt he’d know afterwards.”  
The broker remained respectfully silent, but inside he was urging his employer to act as he wished. It was difficult to suppress a smile of savage triumph when the older being said, “Lannit Yan requires a refresher in discipline, Rurke. See to it that he understands fully why it has become necessary for you to take action against him...”  
Rurke was about to acknowledge his orders when the employer hesitated, and then added, “And impress upon him that there will be no second chances. If he deviates from his instructions again, he will die at your hand. How this occurs is up to you, Rurke.”  
To Rurke’s raised eyebrow the employer clarified, “Both, Rurke. What methods you use in Lannit’s disciplinary refresher and his eventual elimination are entirely at your discretion.”  
This time Rurke didn’t bother to hide his satisfaction. “Thank you, sir.” he said with heartfelt gratitude. “Preventing him from violating more innocent victims is an added bonus as well.”  
“Indeed.” The employer replied drolly. “Although that isn’t a priority.” The being leaned closer to the screen and smiled. It was a profoundly unsettling expression. “And it shouldn’t be yours.”  
Immediately contrite, Rurke bowed his head. “Of course, sir. I apologise for my lapse.”

Even though Rurke’s eyes were downcast, he knew his employer was staring at him coldly. Long minutes passed in menacing silence until the slightly gravelly voice continued. “I have no objection if you wish to add some punishment for what he had intended, Rurke.”  
The viridian raised his eyes and he listened as the older being muttered, “You are who you are, Rurke. If Lannit’s perversions offend you, then provided any retribution is taken within the parameters I have set, then I condone whatever you do. However, never forget that you are working for me, and it’s my motives, my wishes that you serve. Your personal feelings are irrelevant. Is that understood?”  
“Yes, sir. Again, I offer my apologies.”  
“Contact me again when you have delivered the punishment.”  
“Yes, sir.”

Jean-Luc had sat on his biobed for some time, although he couldn’t actually say how long. At some stage, his mind had seemed to run out of the mental chaos that had resulted from witnessing Katya’s labour. He now felt numb, something he considered was progress. Of a sort. At least it was as much progress as he thought he could accomplish. For now.  
Deanna sensed the change in him and re-entered his private room. She quietly dismissed the nurse who’d been monitoring him with a smile and a nod. She stood in front of her captain and studied him. He had lost weight, affording him a gaunt, haggard look. His eyes were closed but his breathing was calm and steady.   
“Captain.” she said quietly. “Would you like to open your eyes?”  
“No.” He breathed out the word in a whisper. “It’s safe in here.”

“That may be so,” Deanna commented softly, “but you can’t stay in there. At some stage you’ll have to come out.”  
He sighed deeply and offered a small, lopsided smile. “How is it,” he asked, “tThat you can make suggestions that are so difficult to achieve and yet make them sound so reasonable and easy?”  
“I think you already know the answer to that.”   
He heard the gentle amusement in her voice. He frowned and Deanna sensed the accompanying surge of fear. “It’s all right, Captain.” she encouraged gently. “I’m here.”  
“I’m frightened.” he murmured brokenly. Two tears slipped from under his eyelids and trickled down his face, tracking through the stubble.  
“I know you are.” Deanna sympathised. “But I’m here, Jean-Luc, you’re not alone, and I’ll help you.”  
He nodded slowly but his face crumpled as he whimpered, “You’ll stay?”  
“Yes.”

His eyes opened and more tears flowed. Deanna gently took his hands and noted he was trembling. “Look at me.” she directed quietly. His eyes rose to meet hers and she stifled the urge to gasp. Rarely had she seen such complete and utter desolation, and yet she knew on those rare occasions she’d seen it, it was in this man’s eyes. “It’s so unfair.” she thought sadly. “Why do these terrible things keep happening to such a good and noble man? He doesn’t deserve it.”  
Outwardly she gave his hands a squeeze and summoned a confident expression. “How do you feel?”  
It was a stock-standard question, one that many of the crew joked about. Not many were aware of how determined and uncompromising the petite counsellor could be. Deanna projected a calm and gentle persona that encouraged those who sought her help to open up and, because of her patience and gentle persistence; she rarely failed to help her patients. Little did they know just how hard she could be, should it be required.  
Jean-Luc knew this, of course, having been on the receiving end of Deanna’s dogged dedication before. Too many times, he thought morosely.  
He sighed at the inevitability of it all, but understood Deanna expected an honest answer. Prevarication was unacceptable to both of them,them; besides, he’d tried that in the past and knew it wouldn’t work. Deanna was the epitome of the iron fist in the velvet glove.

“I feel utterly disgusted with myself.” hHe blurted. “What Katya’s enduring ... that’s my fault.”  
“Only in that the embryos that have spontaneously aborted were fertilised with your sperm. You were not responsible for how that occurred.”  
He chose to remain silent, somewhat frustrating the counsellor. “You know this.” she said firmly. “Intellectually you know you had no control over the events or your part in them, yet you persist in taking the blame.”  
Still he stayed silent.   
“Do you need to self-flagellate?” she asked harshly. “Is deliberately carrying the burden of blame fulfilling some kind of martyr complex? Do you enjoy it somehow?”  
Jean-Luc’s jaw muscles clenched as anger spiked. His eyes darkened and narrowed. “No, Counsellor.” he replied softly, a sure sign of his anger. “I certainly do not enjoy feeling as I do, nor do I have a martyr complex. You of all people should be aware of that.”  
Pursing her lips, Deanna regarded her captain quizzically. “I thought I did, but...”  
The surge of pain she felt coming from the man made her gasp softly. His eyes closed and his face contorted in mental agony. Too late she realised the words she’d just uttered were the same ones Beverly had used that caused her husband to descend into an alcohol-fuelled stupor.

Squeezing his hands again, Deanna clarified. “By that I mean that I know you’re better than that, Jean-Luc. If nothing else, I’ve learned that you are courageous and diligent, especially in dealing with matters of a personal nature.”  
It was difficult, but Jean-Luc appreciated both the clarification and the fact that Deanna knew why her words had so deeply wounded him. He opened his eyes and summoned a wan smile. “I’m finding it very hard to find either courage or diligence, Deanna.” hHe sighed. “I’m not at all sure I posess either of them any more.”  
“You do.” Deanna smiled her confidence. “And anyway, it’s part of my job to help you rediscover things like that.”  
Jean-Luc huffed, but Deanna was gratified to see a spark of guarded amusement in his eyes. He straightened his back and glanced around the room. Deanna sensed alarm as his eyes fastened on something behind her. His mental barriers shot up with such speed that Deanna felt momentarily disoriented.  
She spun around, trying to ready herself for some kind of attack, but there was nothing there. Returning her attention to her patient she asked warily, “Captain? What is it? What did you see?”  
He swallowed and encountered difficulty in finding his voice. “Nothing.” He eventually said. He then tried to smile, but it was unconvincing. “Really, Counsellor, I ... was just...” his voice trickled to a halt and Deanna watched, confused as he slid from the bed.   
“Where are you going?” she asked worriedly.   
“Um ... I’ll ah, I think I’ll go back to my quarters.”

He brushed past Deanna and left the room, and then quickly left sickbay. Deanna shook her head, wondering what the hell had just happened.  
Jean-Luc was relieved to find his quarters empty. Bevery and the children were absent, and he didn’t ask the computer where they were. He did, however, direct the computer to do something else. He sat at his desk and said shakily, “Computer, display ship’s logs of the recent retrieval of the shuttle containing me and my family.”  
“Stardate?”  
He slammed his fists down on the desktop in frustration. “I don’t know!” he shouted. “Access information by word or phrase!”  
“Accessing.”

He waited impatiently for the few seconds it took for the computer to find the information he wanted.   
“There is a match to the search criteria.” The computer announced.  
“Good. Now display inventory of shuttle’s contents.”  
He read quickly, butquickly but didn’t find what he sought. “Computer, is there any mention of a small specimen container?”  
“There were several small containers listed, though not necessarily specimen containers.”  
“I’m looking for a small specimen container with human biological matter inside.”

“No such container was found.”  
“Merde!” Jean-Luc shouted. While he was with Deanna, he’d seen a row of similar containers in his room. That sight retriggered a memory, one he wished he didn’t have. “Those bastards stole semen from me!” he snarled. “Where the hell is it now?”  
Jean-Luc knew he needed to talk to Will, yet he hesitated. He wrestled with the desirsire for privacy and the need to know. UltimatelyUltimately, he chose the only real option open to him. He had to know.  
“Picard to Riker.”  
“Yes, Captain, Riker here.”  
“Could you come to my quarters, Will?”  
“Of course, sir. I’m on my way.”

Will hesitated outside his commander’s quarters. He was well aware of what had occurred in sickbay and,and having spoken to Deanna, he was also aware of his captain’s sudden and inexplicable departure from the medical facility. He wondered briefly why the man wanted to see him, buthim but shrugged as he knew it didn’t actually matter. He was duty bound to obey the summons, and in any casecase, he wished to do whatever his captain wanted if it helped in his recovery.  
In answer to the door chime he heard the customary response. “Come.” On entering he saw the older man seated in his favourite chair by the viewports in the living area.  
“Good afternoon, Captain.” Will said affably. “You wanted to see me?”  
“Yes, Commander, come in and have a seat.”

As the big man lowered himself into the sofa, Jean-Luc enquired, “Would you like something to drink?”  
An alarm was triggered in Will’s mind. His captain didn’t often offer beverages when Will was summoned to his quarters. “No, thank you, sir. I’ve not long ago had lunch.” Because he wasn’t sure what was going on and to offset any offence, he feared he may have given, Will made a show of patting his midriff.  
“I’m actually trying to lose a bit of weight.” he smiled, watching his commander’s face carefully. Jean-Luc didn’t seem to notice. In fact, he appeared quite distracted, though he was doing his best to hide it.  
“Yes, of course.” he replied with a small smile and a wave of his hand. “I um...” he began, then paused as he seemed to reconstruct what he wanted to say. “The shuttle.” He spat out, then seemed to chop the words off with his hand. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried again. “I take it you inspected the shuttle we were in ... the one the kidnappers used?”  
“Yes, sir.”

And your inspection was ... thorough?”  
Will frowned, wondering what, if anything his captain was alluding to.  
“Of course, Captain.”  
“Yes, yes, of course.” Jean-Luc seemed to gather his thoughts before pushing on. “So, when you inspected the shuttle you didn’t find anything ... unusual?”

Now confused and somewhat alarmed, Will frowned and did his best to answer. “Unusual, sir?” he said carefully. “I’m not sure I understand. Do you mean technologically unusual? Alien technology we’ve not seen before?”  
“No!” Jean-Luc snapped, and then made an effort to regain his composure. “No, CommandCommander.” hHe said in a much more reasonable tone. “I meant ... biologically unusual.”  
“Biologically.” Will’s frown deepened as his mind tried to unravel the odd question. “The only unusual biological thing in the shuttle was the alien’s dead body, Captain.” Will studied his captain closely as he added, “One of your kidnappers, I believe.”  
“Twenth.” Jean-Luc’s eyes showed his hatred and disgust as he breathed the name, his face a hard mask. “I see.” he said quietly. “Very well, Commander. That’ll be all.”  
“Captain?” Will was shocked at seeing the older man’s expression. “Is there something I can help you with?”  
“No, thank you, CommandCommander. You’re dismissed.” The reply was deadpan, devoid of any emotion. A worried Will rose slowly and, as he turned to leave said, “You only have to let me...”  
That’s as far as he got. Jean-Luc didn’t look up as he said coldly, “That will be all, Commander!”  
“Yes, sirsir.” Will replied as he left the quarters. His next stop would be at Deanna’s office.

In all it had taken just over four hours for Katya’s body to complete the expulsion of the embryos. As the ordeal neared its end the emotionally and physically exhausted woman had resolved to never become pregnant again. She caught Beverly’s attention between contractions and panted, “Sterilise me.”  
Beverly’s face clearly showed her confusion. “What?”

“You heard me!” Katya shouted through gritted teeth. “Render me incapable of becoming pregnant ever again.”  
On seeing Beverly’s compassionate and sympathetic expression, Katya wanted to scream. “Don’t give me any of your bullshit! Just do it!” She yelled loudly.  
Beverly’s expression maintained its gentleness. “You’ve been through a lot, Katya. I don’t think you’re in a position at this time to...”  
“Shut up!” Katya spat, then let out a lengthy groan as another contraction hit. Beverly used that to raise her voice to say, “It would be irresponsible of me as a doctor to carry out such a procedure at this time. I have to be certain you’re mentally stable to make a decision like that, and I don’t believe you are right now.”   
As the contraction waned, Katya glared up at the redhead. “Fuck you!” she panted heavily before she continued. “You just want to protect that rapist bastard you call your husband. You think he’ll blame himself for my decision.” She swallowed and then sneered. “Well I hope he does, because it’s true!”

“I’m not going to do what you want, Katya. Not under these circumstances.”  
“Fine.” The younger woman snarled. “Then I’ll find a doctor who will.”  
Beverly sighed and made an efforttried to be pragmatic. “That is your right.”  
Nothing more was said as the final malformed embryo was expelled. Beverly then lightly sedated her patient and made sure there was nothing left behind before she carried out the repairs to the uterus.  
After administering a gentle drug to aid in shrinking the uterus back to its normal size, Beverly made sure her patient was comfortable and then left to retreat to her office. A nurse was instructed to watch over Katya until she woke. This occurred 45 minutes later and an hour after that Katya discharged herself and returned to her quarters. The Enterprise was only three hours away from docking at the space station.

Lannit Yan was actually salivating as he covertly watched the females he’d targeted. A group of young adolescent girls had come to a river to bathe. Lannit’s hand drifted to his exposed and tumescent cock as he watched the screen, his hand quickly beginning to stroke his erection.   
Had he not been so engrossed, he might have noticed the approaching vessel. It took up a position relative to his, 1000 kms distant. Having already issued some important instructions to the computer, he was just giving the final order to maintain orbit when the broker materialised on the bridge.

Still stroking his cock, Lannit didn’t hear the sound of the transporter. He froze in complete shock when a familiar voice sounded behind him.  
“You didn’t really think we would allow this, did you?” The viridian asked with menacing calm. Lannit spun around, still gripping his cock. Rurke glanced past him and his face clearly showed his disgust as he noted the young girls.  
Lannit too glanced at the screen, and then scrambled to excuse himself. “I was only looking!” he blurted with an unctuous smile. “No harm in that, surely?”  
Rurke’s almost non-existent eyebrows rose. “Only looking?”

“Yes!” Lannit nodded trying to give an offended look. “These last few weeks have been very stressfulstressful, and I needed ... well, you know how it is.” hHe wheedled.  
“Hmm.” The broker feigned genuine interest in Lannit’s story, as if he waswere actually considering it. He then shot it down. “So, you’re saying that abducting, sexually torturing, and then raping, before killing those girls, would be nothing but stress relief to you?”

The expression of horror was very good, Rurke mused silently. Totally false though. Lannit’s umbrage was well communicated in his words of denial too. “No!” he said, aghast, as he stuffed his now flaccid cock back inside his pants and quickly did them up. “No, I never said anything about abducting those girls, I was just looking.” He was such a clever actor his expression slid easily into outrage. “And as for sexual torture, rape and...” here he paused for effect, “Murder ... well, I can only say those things never entered my head.”   
“Is that right?” Rurke said amusedly. “Well, let’s see.” He then lifted his head but kept his gaze on Lannit. He wanted to see his face as his penny dropped. “Computer, tell me what your most recent instructions were.”  
Rurke was puzzled when he saw a sly look of triumph on Lannit’s face. This wasn’t quite what he expected, but he knew his satisfaction was only momentarily delayed. He was proven right as the computer replied, “Cannot comply. Voice analysis shows you are not authorised to give instructions to this computer.”  
“Override, authorisation, Rurke epsilon 23.”  
“Override code not accepted.”

Rurke was annoyed yet grudgingly impressed at how far Lannit had gone in his hacking. However, Rurke had access to things Lannit would never, could never learn. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small device. On pressing a button, the ship’s computer gave a chirrup, and the responded with, “Override accepted. Greetings, Rurke.”  
With his cold stare settled on Lannit’s face, the viridian said quietly, “Carry out my last instruction.”

Lannit began to sweat as the computer faithfully carried out its order. “The most recent instructions were to make available several instruments and devices, as well as some larger items of equipment for Lannit Yan’s use. I was then ordered to transport up the five designated females from the planet below. I was ordered to ready the detention cell for their imprisonment and lastly, I was told to maintain orbit.”  
Lannit opened his mouth, but Rurke silenced him with a look. “Computer,” he asked, a cold smile emerging. “Can you give me an accurate assessment of the purpose of the instruments, devices and equipment Lannit Yan ordered you to provide?”  
“Yes. The instruments, devices and equipment ordered are customarily used for torture, most often of a sexual nature.”  
“Outrageous!” Lannit howled. “That is nothing but an unwarranted opinion!” he paused to take a steadying breath. Rurke was again impressed at how reasonable Lannit made himself sound as he continued. “All of those things can be used in ways other than to indulge in torture, sexual or otherwise.”

“Perhaps.” The broker acceded. “But not in this instance, eh, Lannit?” Rurke shook his head in a display of incredulity “Remember who you’re talking to, Lannit Yan. I know you very well and so does our employer. There’s absolutely no doubt what you intended to do to those girls, using the items you ordered the computer to provide.”  
To his credit, Lannit tried one last time to convince the viridian of his innocence. “So, I am to be blamed for something I’ve not yet done? That’s manifestly unfair, besides which I maintain that I was only observing the girls.” He held out a beseeching hand. “You saw what I was doing, had you waited a few moments I would’ve finished...”

“You are going to be punished, Lannit, but our employer wants you to know it’s because you deviated from your instructions. No permission was very given or implied that would allow you to alter this ship’s course and/or speed.”  
The perverted alien blinked and shook his head. “What kind of punishment?” his voice cracked as he began to tremble. His fear worsened as he watched a cruel smile grace Rurke’s face.   
“I thought I’d use those things you ordered from the computer.” He leaned in closer and dropped his voice. “And I’ll be sure to use them as intended.”  
Lannit fell to his knees, showing genuine emotion for the first time. “Please, please don’t. I won’t be tempted again,again; you have my word. The employer’s instructions will be adhered to, I promise.”  
“Oh, I know they will, Lannit. The punishment will ensure that, but that’s not the only punishment you’re due to receive.”

Lannit paled so quickly Rurke briefly wondered if he was going to pass out. “No...” he whispered. “No, please ... no...”  
Rurke hunkered down so he could stare into Lannit’s eyes as he delivered his condemnation. “You see, Lannit Yan, our employer has given me permission to punish you for what you intended to do to those girls. Although it’s my private opinion, I hold that that kind of behaviour is abhorrent, and you should be made aware of that ... and just how much it angers me.”

Lannit began to wail. Rurke stood and removed some manacles from his jacket. While he put them on the panic-stricken male he said quietly, “Hopefully it’ll make you a better person, Lannit, although I doubt it will.” hHe sighed. “Perhaps the best I can hope for is that you remember how much I hurt you and why. Who knows, it may be enough to make you reconsider, but I seriously doubt it.”  
As Lannit was dragged towards the lift he cried, “Then why do it? You know I can’t stop.”

In the small amount of time while he waited for the lift, Rurke looked down at the deplorable being and said coldly, “Because you so richly deserve it, and your victims didn’t.”   
The sound of Lannit’s screams hung in the air long after he’d left the bridge. He was about to experience agony the likes of which he didn’t know could be endured. Agony much like that he inflicted on his victims, who endured until they died. Rurke would make sure Lannit survived. The victims were owed that much at least.

Beverly was tired. After the emotional strain of seeing Katya through her labour, and then dealing with the younger woman’s request for sterilisation, which had grown to angry demands when Beverly had refused, she was left feeling utterly drained. She was also carrying in her mind, deliberately shoved to one side for now, the knowledge that what Katya had just endured in the expulsion of the embryos, would soon happen to her.  
James held tightly to her hand as they walked slowly back to their quarters. Beverly had picked the children up from the crèche, Elly was nestled in her other arm.   
Deanna had helped James immensely in dealing with the recent traumas and he continued to improve under her care, but the sensitive and perspicacious little boy sensed his mother’s exhaustion and wisely chose to curtail his usual enthusiasm. He had showed his mother the painting he carried, butcarried but didn’t elaborate too much when she predictably asked him about it, content to simply tell her it was a bird in flight. He would expound on that later, whenlater when he felt his mother was feeling better.  
The last thing Beverly expected to see when she entered their quarters was her husband. Three things happened almost simultaneously. She felt a stab of fear on seeing him, she felt anger at over his recent behaviour, and then she experienced guilt as she recalled what had caused his lapse in the first place.

His head snapped up and she saw panic flash across his eyes. He rose quickly and broke eye contact. “I was just leaving.” hHe muttered quietly. Beverly’s first reaction was to step aside, to give him free access to the door, but also, tacitly, to let him go past without getting too close to her. Again, guilt wracked her. She hated feeling like this, her mind insisting on two diametrically opposing views. ‘He’s dangerous! He raped you!’ Said one, but then, ‘No, he’s not! It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his actions!’

Shaking her head in anger and frustration, Beverly decided to shut down the foremost of those thoughts and go, for now, with the kinder ones. “No, it’s ok, Jean-Luc.” she said, summoning what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Stay.”  
James, who on seeing his father, had ducked behind his mother, now peeked around her legs, and regarded his father solemnly. He and Deanna had spoken a lot about how he felt towards his father and she’d helped him a great deal to lose much the fear and suspicion that had so crippled their relationship. He now showed great courage by stepping out from behind his mother and saying quietly, “Papa?”

At the sound of his son’s voice, Jean-Luc’s face creased into a warm, loving smile. “Hello, James. I’ve missed you.” he said quietly.  
“Where have you been, pPapa? Why did you leave?” James asked with guileless innocence.   
Jean-Luc took a deep, shuddering breath and did his best to quell his rising tears. He didn’t quite succeed. “I thought it best.” he said brokenly.  
Beverly saw her moment to step in. “Papa was feeling bad, James, so he went away to see if he could find a way to help him feel better.”  
James looked up at his mother, a frown bringing his eyebrows together. “Did papa stay with aunt Deanna?”

“No.” Beverly replied gently. “But now that papa’s home again, he’ll talk with aunt Deanna...” she looked over at her husband with a challenging expression. “Won’t you, Jean-Luc.” It wasn’t a question and Jean-Luc suddenly knew he’d reached a crossroad.  
If he didn’t accept Beverly’s challenge he was doomed to a life of guilt, recriminationrecrimination, and possible alcoholism. But to accept the challenge would be to expose himself to unspeakable horror, things he wasn’t yet ready ... or willing ... to deal with.   
Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, he chose the only thing he felt had any chance of saving him. His deep, abiding, and all-consuming love for his wife and children. If he had to endure the horrors of his recent past with Deanna, sobeit. It was better than the alternative, which he knew beyond doubt, would be a future without his beloved wife and family.

“Yes.” he said shakily. “Yes, I’ll be seeking Deanna’s help.” His confirmation had been directed at Beverly, but it was James who responded. “That’s good, pPapa.” hHe said while nodding sagely. “Aunt Deanna makes me feel better.”  
Jean-Luc dropped to one knee and answered James’s nod with one of his own. “She is good at that, isn’t she.she?” he remarked.   
On seeing his father at his own level, James was encouraged to approach him. They stood close to each other and when Jean-Luc slowly lifted his arms, James didn’t hesitate to step into his father’s embrace.  
Beverly waited a moment or two before moving to the pair and offering her hand to her husband. “Have you eaten?” she asked gently. Jean-Luc wiped the tears from his face as he rose and shook his head. “No.” hHe replied in a rough whisper, not trusting his voice. 

“Then why don’t you go and shower...” Beverly ran the backs of her fingers over his long stubble “And shave, while I see to dinner?”  
Once again tears began to fill Jean-Luc’s eyes. He nodded mutely but managed to send his wife a look of gratitude. He turned and left the living area, on his way to their bathroom. James watched his father go and remarked quirkily, “Papa doesn’t like hot chips and sausages with tomato sauce for dinner, does he?”

Beverly shrugged and gave a wry smile. “Maybe not, but I bet he wouldn’t mind if we had that for dinner tonight.” James grinned and went to play with some toys as his mother changed Elly’s nappy. It was only later, as she was queuing the replicator, that Beverly realised that James had lost his lisp.   
The thought made her frownfrown, and she felt a stab of pain. “You’ve had to do that, haven’t you, James?” she murmured. “In getting past your difficulties, you’ve had to grow up quite a bit.”  
She made a mental note to mention it to Deanna. Jean-Luc emerged some minutes later and, at Beverly’s request, took his seat at the dinner table. James needed no encouragement to inform his father as to what was on the menu.  
“We’re having hot chips and sausages with tomato sauce.” He grinned happily.

Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose. “Are we now?” he parried with a smile. “I seem to recall that’s a favourite of yours, James.”  
“It is!” James agreed enthusiastically, but then his riant grin began to fade. “Is it ok, papa?”  
Initially confused by the question, Jean-Luc was about to ask for clarification when Beverly supplied, “I’m sure pPapa is ok with it, James. A meal like this is ok every now and then.”  
“Indeed.” Jean-Luc smiled, endorsing his wife’s comment. “And I know you usually have very tasty and nutritious meals, so something like this...” he gestured to the dishes and platters that Beverly was putting on the table, “is a nice treat. N’est pas?”   
James giggled then rolled his eyes theatrically. “That’s French!” he smirked.  
“Oui.” Jean-Luc replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “So, what does it mean?”  
James frowned and shrugged. That disappointed Jean-Luc a little. He had been slowly introducing his son to his native language, butlanguage but recognised now wasn’t the time to press the boy. “Oh well.” hHe too shrugged. “Perhaps we can talk about that some other time.”

James sneaked a look at his father and said quietly, “Oui, papa.”  
An unexpected chuckle emerged from Jean-Luc, surprising him and the others at the table. James gave a laugh which increased as Jean-Luc reached over and gently tweaked his nose. “Cheeky boy.” hHe muttered good-naturedly.  
Beverly had watched the exchange carefully and was pleased with what she’d seen, but what had really surprised her was how sentimental she felt. It was almost as if the recent events had never taken place. She caught herself and gave a mental shake. “Don’t be lulled.” She admonished herself harshly. “A simple meal and a bit of light-hearted repartee isn’t some kind of magical panacea.”   
And yet seeing father and son reconnecting, having her husband there, in their quarters where he should be ... that was cause for optimism wasn’t it? For hope?

Fortunately, Beverly decided it was, but she still felt the need to be on her guard. She would be vigilant, both in observing her husband and her own feelings. There was too much at stake for any missteps.

Deanna and Will hadve just made love. Sometimes it was sex, hot, sweaty, raw sex, but other times it was making love. This was one of those times, and it had been tender, sweet, and protracted. Will was lying on his back, Deanna half sprawled over his body. “I love you.” hHe rumbled, making Deanna smile as his voice vibrated through his hirsute chest.  
“I know you do, as you know I love you.” She reciprocated dreamily.

They were quiet for a while. The only way Will knew his lover was still awake was that she was gently running her fingers through his chest hair. He sighed and Deanna frowned as his emotions unsettled her euphoria.  
“What is it?” she asked, knowing that whatever had intruded into their mutual afterglow needed to be aired.  
“There’s a JAG team waiting at the starbase.” Will said with quiet disgust.

“Oh.” Was all Deanna said for a while. Then she asked, “Does the captain know?”  
Will’s shrug shifted DeannaDeanna, so she resettled herself. “I don’t think so, but after today...” He’d related the odd meeting with his Commandcommander and Deanna was as nonplussed as he was.   
“You’ve managed to put them off so far,” Deanna sighed, knowing the answer to her question before she’d even asked it. “What with his psychological difficulties, can’t you deflect them some more? Buy some more time somehow?”  
She didn’t see Will’s grim smile, but she heard it in his voice. “Deflect a JAG team?” he sighed and offered a short grunt. “Not likely. They’ve accepted that the captain wasn’t well enough before, but that’s not the case now. The man I spoke to today was coherent and calm. If I even tried to suggest our captain wasn’t fit enough to be interviewed now, I’d be added to their list to be grilled.”

“Damn.” Deanna sighed. She knew she’d be compelled to write a medical report as well and, like Will, there was little by way of wriggle-room. She could blur the lines, so to speak, but the bottom line was that she had to agree with Will. Their captain was well enough to be interviewed. She could only hope the interviewers took his trauma into consideration and only interviewed ... and not vigorously interrogate the man. She feared what the stress of something like that would do to him. He’d made some good headway, butheadway but was still in a precariously fragile mental state. It would take very little to cause another breakdown.  
“We dock tomorrow?” she asked quietly. 

“We do.” Will sighed again. Ensign ... sorry, ex-ensign Kurnov disembarks too.”  
“Katya.” Deanna’s voice carried her sadness. “Poor Katya.”  
Will shifted and cupped Deanna’s chin, gently lifting her face. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “You did your best, Dee. It’s her choice to shun help.”   
Deanna’s obsidian eyes glittered with unshed tears. Her lover’s tenderness was much appreciated, but the sadness she felt overwhelmed his attempts to exonerate her. “I failed her, Will, there’s no getting around that. I’ve sent her the names and contact details of some excellent civilian therapists, but I know she won’t see any of them.” The steadying breath Deanna took shuddered as she tried to hold onto her control. “She’s so damaged, Will, so badly damaged, and without help, that damage will eventually destroy her.”

“I understand, really, I do.” Will hugged Deanna to him. “But it’s still her choice. She knows that you recommend counselling. If she refuses, knowing that it’s unlikely she’ll recover fully without it, then that’s on her.”  
“But she’s not thinking straight!”  
“Perhaps, but once she’s had some time to think, maybe she’ll seek help then? It seems to me that she needs this current anger, like it’s sustaining her, keeping her going ‘til the dust settles.”  
“That’s probably true.” Deanna shifted and Will eased his embrace. “But the longer she stays angry, the longer she puts off dealing with what happened, and the harder it’ll become to start. Eventually it’ll become too hard. She’ll not want to open the wounds and in burying the trauma, it’ll just fester. Until one day...”  
“Boom.” Will murmured quietly.  
“Yes. Boom.”

Will’s brows knitted in a deep frown. “I hope the captain’s nowhere nearby when that happens.”  
“Indeed, although...”  
“What?”  
“He went to her quarters ... I wonder what was said?”  
Deanna’s comment caught Will’s attention. “Really? When was this?”  
Deanna sighed and chose her words carefully. She and Will were lovers and worked together, but she still had to maintain patient confidentiality. “Um ... not that long after they’d all been rescued.”  
“I see.” Will muttered, clearly not happy about Deanna not telling him this earlier. She sensed his annoyance and shook her head.   
“I can’t tell you because I don’t know.” sShe said with a trace of irritation.  
The remark increased Will’s annoyance. “I didn’t ask you anything.” hHe growled.  
“I knew what you were going to ask.” Deanna replied primly.

“Really?” Will responded dryly. “So, what was I going to ask?”  
“What was discussed, obviously. But as I’ve already told you, I don’t know.”  
“You didn’t tell me that, Dee, you mentioned it in passing, but that wasn’t what I was going to ask.” His tone was bland, and Deanna thought she detected a trace of amusement in it.  
“All right,” she responded in kind. “So, what were you going to ask me?”  
“I just wanted to know why you hadn’t told me they’d met in Katya’s quarters, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Deanna offered a rueful smile. “Well, I can’t go into details, but after that meeting ... perhaps as a result of that meeting, some other things occurred that involved the captain. But as I said, I can’t go into details.”  
Will stared up at the ceiling and briefly closed his eyes. “Like the captain crawling into a bottle of alcohol and staying there?”  
Initially Deanna said nothing and in doing so confirmed Will’s comment. She did, however, have a question for him. “How do you know and what are you going to do with that information.”  
“I know because he was seen by several crew in various places on the ship and why are you even asking.” His anger surfaced. He grimaced as a headache began to take hold. “Provided he gets the help he needs and stays off the alcohol, I don’t intend to do anything. He’s been relieved of duty anyway, so it’s not as if he’s done anything that wrong. But...”   
Deanna felt his body tense. “If the JAG team get wind of it and they ask me directly to confirm it, I’ll have no option but to answer honestly.” Will did his best to let go of his angst. “However, I can genuinely say that I didn’t see him in an inebriated state, so it hinges on how I’m asked.”

Regret made Deanna’s face crumple into a grimace. “I’m sorry, Imzadi.” sShe sighed. “I get so absorbed with my worries that I sometimes forget the stresses and burdens you carry.”  
Will eased his arms around her and sighed. “I wish I had a magic wand, Deannae. One wave and I’d make everything all right.”  
“If only it could be that simple.”  
Neither slept well for what remained of the night.

Lannit sniffed wetly and dabbed at his eyes again with the now-sodden tissue. He seemed to have an unending supply of tears. Having gone through his life so far with no experience, or at least none he could remember, of crying, the perpetual weeping was distressing.   
His recent encounter with the broker was something he was still trying to recover from, albeit on a physical level. What damage had been wrought on a psychological level was far more profound. Along with the memories of what he’d endured, Lannit was left with a thirst for revenge so powerful it made him tremble just by the merest thought of what shape that revenge would take.  
One thing was certain; Lannit’s cold eyes stared blankly as he thought sourly, if he has anyone dear to him ... a partner ... offspring, parents ... I will find them and then ... His body shook and, incredibly, his badly mutilated penis tried to stiffen. It caused indescribable pain and Lannit dabbed his eyes again, removing the fresh tears.

Ignoring the deep, pervading agony radiating out from his groin that reawakened other damaged areas of his body, Lannit’s jaw clenched as he expounded on his thoughts. “Oh, I hope you have offspring, Rurke. If you think what you’ve done to me has changed my appetites, you’re sadly mistaken. It’s had the opposite effect, you cruel prick. Now more than ever I want a toy to play with. A living, breathing screaming toy, and once I have the reconstructive surgery to repair what you did to me; I’ll start searching for some candidates. Top of my wish list will be any members of your family.” He sighed and closed his eyes as he thought of the mutilation of his genitals. “Oh, I do hope you have offspring.”  
He was seated on a soft, padded ring. Unable to bear wearing any clothing, he was naked, his body showing the vivid evidence of what Rurke had done. Cuts, gashes, abrasions, bruises, flesh literally torn, internal organs damaged, all weeping blood and serum. But as vicious as those injuries were, none compared to what Rurke had done to Lannit’s genitalia.

He refused to look at what was left. He’d glanced once, and once only, and what he’d seen had made him vomit. It was a combination of shock and the correlation of feeling the agony and seeing the cause as well as remembering the protracted torture. He could only hope there was enough viable tissue left to allow for a proper reconstruction.  
But as darkly, as insanely furious as he was, that didn’t alter the fact that he was compelled to follow his instructions. Go directly to the first planet where he was to collect the initial breeding stock, then on to the next. And absolutely no extracurricular diversions to his course.

He stared sullenly at the stellar map, sneering as he noted his ship’s progress. He knew that Rurke’s ship was shadowing him, lurking just out of his ship’s sensor range. That truth ate at Lannit, he so wanted to alter course to confront his torturer, but even that was denied him.  
Of course, facing anything front on was against his very nature, but that didn’t stop Lannit from imagining his epic, heroic even, confrontation with the broker. “Oh!” Lannit exclaimed vehemently. “Oh, how I’d make you suffer, how I’d make you beg for mercy for what you did to me. What you had no right to do to me!”  
However, all that would have to wait. He did his best to concentrate on the work at hand. He would indulge his fantasies later, when he could devote all his cunning, his guile, and his impressive imagination, to just how he would wreak revenge on Rurke. And, hopefully, if his long-term planning bore fruit, their employer as well.

The Enterprise had docked at the starbase and Will was undergoing an interview with the JAG officers. More a courtesy than a fact-finding mission at this stage, the JAG officers asked their questions with depressing predictability. Will answered truthfully; knowing the entire exercise was preliminary in nature. The real questions, the hard ones, would come later, when they were interviewing Captain Picard.  
Once finally free of the officious JAG personnel, Will made his way back to the bridge. On entering the command centre he caught Deanna’s eye. She’d been waiting for his return. He gave a surreptitious nod and inclined his head towards the ready room doors. Deanna rose and followed him as the doors whispered open, then closed behind them.  
“How was it?” the counsellor asked as she took a seat before the desk. Will hesitated briefly as he lowered his large frame into his seat, sent his lover a grim smile, then completed seating himself. Through a grimace he sighed, then muttered, “They’re cold, Dee, so damned cold.”

Deanna smiled sympathetically. “I think the word you want is, impersonal.”  
Will sent a smile and shrugged, but then his smile fadedfaded, and he scowled. “Yeah, I guess, it’s just that they don’t know him like we do. There was no opportunity for me to tell them what an excellent captain he is ... what a fine man he is...”  
“Did they have any questions about Beverly or Katya?”  
“No, although they explained that as it was the captain’s behaviour and actions that had raised the investigation, their primary focus would be on him. The others would be questioned, of course.” Will shook his head, his hands fisting reflexively. “They mentioned the charges, obviously.”

Deanna sighed and was about to say something when Will continued. “Hearing it, Deanna, hearing the words spoken by those officers...” Will sighed deeply, his eyes closing briefly. “Multiple counts of aggravated rape. Deliberate endangerment...”  
He was becoming increasingly angry as he vented. “And why do they speak in italics?” he spat. “Words like rape and forced and deliberate? And normal behaviour?” he added, outraged and angry.  
Will emphasised the words and Deanna sighed. “It’s for effect, Will, you know that.” sShe explained gently. “They’re hoping by stressing evocative words they can shake lose observations that you might’ve otherwise chosen to keep ... private.”  
“Yeah, well that failed.” Will growled. “In fact, it made me all the more determined to stick up for our captain.”  
Deanna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if it was worth continuing the discussion. She decided it was. “But that can be counterproductive too. That kind of attitude can sometimes lead to an over-estimation, overcompensation, if you will, of the virtues of the person you’re trying to defend.”

Will gave Deanna a long look, trying to see if she was speaking generally or meant him personally. “I didn’t gild any lilies, Deanna.” hHe said quietly, but with an edge of irritation. “I have been doing this job for a long time now, I’m not inexperienced.”  
“True, but how much experience have you had in defending the captain against the accusations made against him?” Deanna waited a beat, and then added, “Accusations of multiple rape and deliberate endangerment?”  
Will grimaced and let out a long breath. “It’s so ... absurd.” he muttered softly. “Saying those words and the captain’s name in the same context.”  
“To us, yes it isyes, it is. We know him, we know he’s simply not capable, under normal circumstances, of committing such atrocities, and of course we know that the events that occurred happened with no intent on his part, but the JAG officers don’t know that. It’s their job to investigate the accusations and see if the charges are valid.” 

“Yeah.” Will said morosely. “Here’s hoping they know how to do their job properly.”  
“Indeed.” Deanna nodded. “I think you’ll find they do. We have our jobs, they have theirs.”  
Will grunted a reply, then leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “I’ll go and speak to Beverly soon. I’d’ve liked to speak to Katya too, but she disembarked soon after we docked. I guess the JAG officers will interview her on the base.”  
“Yes.” Deanna’s expression was one of worry. “That poor girl, I feel I’ve failed her.”  
“We’ve had this discussion, Dee.”

“I know. But Will, the trauma she’s endured, what she’s suffering as a result...” Deanna sighed and used a hand to express her words. “And should the JAG crew conclude that the captain committed no offenceoffence, and the charges are dropped, as we know they should be, how will she cope then? As much as the captain is innocent, so she’s damned. Yes, he did it, no question, but he had no control over his actions. Yet she, and Beverly, of course, bore the assault and the consequences. And that’s not to say there aren’t significant consequences for the captain too. This whole thing is ...is ... it’s a ...”  
“Clusterfuck.” Will murmured darkly.  
“Yes, exactly.” sShe sighed in anger and desolation. “Yes, it certainly is.”

Katya looked around her new surroundings and summoned a tight smile. “Starfleet drab.” she muttered quietly. “Well, not for long, but I’ll be sure to make my way back to earth on a civilian vessel, no more of this ‘fleet bullshit.”  
She was stowing her holdall when a call came over the communicator speakers. “Ms Kurnov, I’ve been asked to inform you that you have an appointment with some JAG personnel at 14.30 hours. Please be in your assigned quarters at that time.”  
Katya went to tap her comm badge, but she no longer wore one. She lifted her head slightly and replied. “Understood, thank you.” She felt magnanimous in offering her thanks, but the message had filled her with savage anticipation. “Once I tell them about what he did, his life will be over, his precious captaincy trashed. Then he’ll know what it’s like to be truly devastated.”  
Katya had given no thought to her former captain’s confession. He’d been violated, sexually abused, but it meant nothing to Katya. In her mind there were no extenuating circumstances, nothing to mitigate or compensate. Jean-Luc Picard had deliberately put her in danger, and then repeatedly raped her. Black and white, no grey. He did these things so he should be punished. Severely.  
She looked forward to the upcoming meeting.

Will had asked Deanna to accompany him when he went to see Beverly. As they approached her quarters Deanna suddenly stopped, causing Will to do the same. He gave his lover a questioning look and tilted his head by way of silent enquiry.  
“He’s with her.”  
Will didn’t need to be told who it was. He began to smile, but on seeing Deanna’s closed expression, reassessed his response. “Is there something wrong? It’s ok that he’s there isn’t it?”  
“Yes...” Deanna replied guardedly.

“But?”  
“Well apart from making it difficult to talk to Beverly about the investigation, I’m not sensing that Beverly’s all that comfortable with him being there.”  
“Oh.” Will frowned. “But it’s still a good sign though, isn’t it? I mean surely it’s better than what’s been going on.” Will suddenly gasped. “Is he sober?”  
Deanna offered a placatory smile. “Yes, I sense nothing particularly unsettling coming from him.”  
“Then it’s ok.” Deanna lifted an eyebrow, making Will amend his statement. “Isn’t it?”  
“Yes.” Deanna confirmed cautiously. “But until I see how they’re interacting as a couple and as a family, I can’t give a definitive answer.”  
“Right.” Will demurred, then gestured down the corridor. “Then shall we?”  
“Yes.”

As they neared the quarters, Deanna placed a hand on Will’s arm. “Just tread carefully, Will. They’re both very fragile.”  
He gave a firm nod. “Understood.”  
After receiving permission to enter, Will and Deanna summoned smiles at seeing their captain seated on the floor while playing a building game with James. Brightly coloured connectable blocks lay strewn on the carpet while a debate was in progress as to how tall the construct should be.

On hearing Beverly’s voice Will turned and grinned. “Welcome to Picard Constructions. Orders taken and budgets adhered to.” sShe quipped.  
The big man made a show of considering the offer. “Do you build starships?”  
Beverly shrugged and redirected the question to Jean-Luc. He smiled and caught James’s attention. “Uncle Will wants to know if we can make him a starship.”  
The little boy adopted a serious expression as he contemplated the question. He then grinned widely. “No, we don’t build starships. Just buildings. And walls. Big walls.”  
“We specialise in walls.” Jean-Luc confirmed with a smile. “Very colourful walls.” hHe added with a mischievous look.  
“So, is this a social visit?” Beverly asked quietly. Both Will and Deanna sobered immediately. “Not exactly.” Will replied, also quietly. Deanna quickly added, “But it is lovely to see you all.”  
Beverly gave a wry smile and an arched eyebrow. “Do you mean all together?”

Deanna decided to dispense with any parrying. “Yes.” sShe replied firmly, holding Beverly’s gaze.  
Will glanced at the pair on the floor and leaned in to speak quietly to Beverly. “Can we talk?” he glanced again and added, “In private?”  
The redhead responded with a brittle smile and nodded before saying, “Jean-Luc, I’m leaving for a while, Elly’s due for a feed soon, so I won’t be long.”  
Jean-Luc knew what was happening and gave a measured, but silent nod.   
The three friends left, and Beverly led them to a nearby observation room. “So.” sShe said as she took a seat, her back to the viewports as it only showed the interior of the spacedockspace dock. “I take it you’ve spoken with the JAG team?”  
“Yes.” Agreed Will confirmed. “It was only a preliminary interview, a courtesy due to my acting captain status.”  
“And?” Obviously, Beverly was in no mood for time wasting.

Deanna watched as Will shrugged. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. They went over the charges and asked my opinion on some things, what my take was on some aspects of the events.”  
In her long experience as a doctor and years as a senior officer, Beverly had honed her skills as an observer of body language. There were some species where she failed to correctly interpret such things, but humans? She had that down to a fine art and, as Will was a dear and close friend; his body language was easy to read.   
“What aren’t you saying?” sShe asked pointedly. 

Will feigned confusion and stepped back. “What do you mean?” he asked warily.  
Beverly’s smile was a chilly one. “You’re holding something back, if not from me, then from the JAG team.”  
Deanna chose that moment to interject. She knew Beverly wouldn’t let the matter go unless she felt she’d been told the truth. “There are some aspects of the broader picture that aren’t able to be discussed.”  
Beverly turned her attention to her best friend. “That sounds like political double-speak. What the hell does it mean? Are you saying these things can’t be discussed with me or the JAG team?”  
“Both.” Deanna said flatly.

“Ok, so what the hell do you mean by the ‘aspects of the broader picture’?”  
Will held up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Look, Beverly, I can’t go into details, but I was made aware of your abduction, all of your abductions, and what happened as a result, and then I was given the task of rescuing you all. But there’s more going on than you know. I can’t tell you any more than that. I don’t know if the JAG team are aware of it, but that doesn’t matter, as I can’t tell them.”  
Beverly’s face clearly showed her anger and outrage. “We were what, pawns in some kind of political power play?” she asked hotly.   
“I don’t know, what I was told was only relevant to the fact you’d all been abducted and what happened after. And, as I said, I was tasked to recue you if I could.”  
“But quietly.” Deanna added. On seeing Beverly’s furious expression, Deanna clarified. “Will only told me enough so I could assist him in his efforts to find you. I don’t know the details.”  
“Shit!” Beverly rose from her chair and began to pace. “As if this wasn’t bad enough...”

“Put it aside, Beverly.” Deanna advised gently. “It’s not relevant; just concentrate on the here and now. Continue with the counselling and rebuilding your relationship with your husband.” Deanna rose and blocked Beverly’s pacing. “One day, one step, at a time.”  
The taller woman stopped and was about to respond angrily, but the angst faded away leaving Beverly’s shoulders slumped and her head bowed in defeat. She slumped in her seat and lowered her head. Deanna looked at her lover, her worry clearly evident.   
The big Commandcommander took a deep breath, then leaned forward and coaxed one of Beverly’s hands into his. “This shit show is at its worst now, but it will get better, Beverly.”  
She lifted her head and her red-rimmed eyes settled on the man. “Yeah, I know ... I keep reminding myself of the old saying,” She rolled her hand as she brought it to mind. “This too shall pass...” She summoned a watery smile and a trace of her usual humour surfaced, but it was only a glimmer. “I wish it’d hurry up.”

“Us too.” Deanna commiserated. The petite counsellor was watching her best friend carefully, but more importantly she was assessing Beverly’s emotional status. She was sensing the underlying anger and despair in the woman, but also resolve and determination. Deanna smiled inwardly as she felt admiration and not a small amount of awe for her long-time and dear friend and decided to redirect her focus. “How’s the captain?” she asked quietly.  
Beverly’s eyebrows arched and her gaze sharpened at the question’s change of direction, but she remained calm. “He’s oOk.” sShe replied noncommittally. Deanna said nothing, choosing to simply hold Beverly’s eyes with hers.   
With an irritated huff, Beverly addedrepeated, “He’s ok ...” but then amended that with, “or seems to be, all things considered. He’s making an effort to engage with James.” This was said with an upbeat hint, but Deanna wasn’t fooled. “What about you?” sShe asked gently. On seeing Beverly’s obviously exaggerated look of confusion, Deanna clarified, “How is he with you?”  
There ensued a lengthy, uncomfortable silence. Will shifted in his chair, finding the tension hard to take. Deanna remained calm and implacable, waiting Beverly out. Again, the red head let out a plosive huff. “He’s ... wary ... cautious....”  
“Of his domestic situation or of you?”

A look of genuine bewilderment crossed Beverly’s face. “I don’t know.” sShe uttered quietly, and then added hopefully, “Both?”  
“Quite possibly.” Deanna agreed. “He’s staying sober?”  
“Oh, yes.” Beverly replied firmly. “I’ve not actually said anything...” she sighed, “and neither has he ... yeet t ... but I have...” she rolled her hand again and Deanna sensed the surge of embarrassment and guilt as she added, “but I’ve scanned him when he wasn’t aware of it and each time he’s been completely sober.”

Although the methods used to gain such information left much to be desirsired, Deanna was still pleased with the results. She did, however, need to speak to Beverly about the stealthy nature of her info-gathering. “It’s very encouraging to hear that, but I have to say it might’ve been better to involve him in his sobriety. He’s making the effort, Beverly, I feel confident in saying I think he’d appreciate your support.”  
“Of course, he has my support!” Beverly snapped waspishly, rising to her feet.  
Her reply made Deanna sigh. “Does he?” This said quite flatly. “Does he really?”  
Beverly’s face hardened and her eyes glittered angrily. “He has my support within the limits of our ... situation.”  
“Meaning?”

Although Beverly maintained her anger, Deanna easily sensed her underlying feelings of fear and guilt. The petite counsellor gave nothing away, content to allow silence to do what words couldn’t. She knew her friend well. At this point any further attempt to confront Beverly vocally would only cause her to become obstinately stubborn and combative. Eventually her patience was rewarded when Beverly let out an irritated huff and flicked her hand in a dismissive wave.  
“Fine!” she snapped defensively. “I admit he still scares the hell out of me and my trust in him is on very shaky ground.” She stalked over to a chair, but her bravado seemed to leak out of her with very step she took. By the time she reached the seat her body saggedsagged, and she virtually deflated into the chair.  
Will, who’d been silently observing the confrontation, moved to sit beside Beverly and rested a large, warm hand on her forearm. He said nothing, simply offering love and sympathy with his gesture. Deanna sighed as she took in the scene, marvelling, not for the first time, how valuable close friends were.

The counsellor took a seat too and said quietly, “Talk to him, Beverly. Unless you two open up to each other, the barriers between you will only thicken until they reach a point of critical mass. At that time, they’ll either be too strong to breach or they’ll burst in a cataclysmic outpouring of emotion that’ll do nothing but damage everyone unfortunate enough to be caught in it.”  
Brushing away an errant tear, Beverly sighed. “I know what you’re saying is true, Deanna, but, although it sounds so simple, it’s actually terribly difficult.”  
Deanna was only partially successful in hiding her knowing smile. Still, Beverly saw it and at first glowered, but she couldn’t maintain it. She shook her head in defeat. “Yes, I’m aware I’m preaching to the choir.”  
“It’s hard when the boot’s on the other foot.” Will observed wryly.

“Yeah.” Beverly agreed with a trace of embarrassment. “It’s like the whole ‘doctors are the worst patients’ thing.”  
“Advice is always best given; it’s much harder to receive.” Deanna said quietly. “But,But that being said, you are uniquely placed to use your knowledge to your advantage, Beverly.”  
That remark brought a puzzled frown to Beverly’s face. “I get how my medical training and experience will help me with the psychology of the problems we face, but other than that, what do you mean? It’s not like my training is unique.”  
“No, that’s true.” Deanna nodded. “But your insight into your husband is. You know him best of all, perhaps better even than he knows himself. If that doesn’t give you a distinct and very unique advantage, then nothing does.”  
There was a long, speculative silence as Beverly mulled over what her best friend had said, but it was Will who actually said what she had thought. Her surprise at his perspicacity showed on her face.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “but what about Beverly?” He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “We know that the captain resorted to alcohol because he couldn’t cope with this whole shit show. But the reality is he left Beverly, with the kids, to go it alone. Yes, she had you, Dee, but what she really needed was her husband. So, yeah, I get how well placedwell-placed Beverly is to helping him, but she needs that kind of help from him.” The big man shrugged and added cautiously, “Doesn’t she?”  
It was then that Beverly’s expression cleared from puzzlement to acknowledgement. “And that can be achieved by talking, openly and honestly.”   
“Yes.” Deanna said quietly, but triumphantly. Yet her subdued response clearly carried her appreciation of Beverly’s acceptance of her advice. She saw the determination settle on her friend and it gave her a surge of confidence she’d struggled of late to find.  
“I’d best be getting back to my...” Beverly offered a lopsided smile and corrected herself, “Our quarters. Jean-Luc’ll be wondering what we’ve been up to.”  
“He knows.” Will muttered. 

Both women replied simultaneously, “I know.”  
It caused each person to chuckle, but it was a watery response. As they moved towards the door, Deanna caught Beverly’s sleeve and murmured gently, “Just remember you’re not alone. I’ll be there for you ... for both of you.” Beverly sent a smile, but Deanna wasn’t finished. “Whether you like it or not.”  
Struck silent and her feet stilled, Beverly could only watch as Deanna, and then Will left before her. The doctor shook her head as she marvelled at her best friend’s chutzpah. “For a female, you have very big balls, Deanna Troi.” Beverly muttered, shaking her head with incredulity. She then took a few deep breaths and, suitably fortified, set course for her quarters.

Rurke offered a respectful nod as acknowledgement of the employer’s pronouncement. They had been discussing Lannit’s ongoing attempts to breach the employer’s privacy and he had suggested laying some false trails as a method of prolonging Lannit’s efforts. Rurke suppressed a smile as he agreed with the ploy; he clearly understood the motives behind it.   
There was no way Lannit Yan would ever gain access to the information he so desirsired but steering his search in the wrong directions would afford the employer more time to see his own plans through. It was becoming clear that Lannit was more of a liability than first thought; in fact, both the employer and Rurke had come to the conclusionconcluded that he was most definitely dispensable, even though he hadn’t completed his tasks.   
There was only one thing stopping the employer from ordering his immediate elimination and that was the fact that should there be any investigation into the impending abductions, or if Lannit was sloppy enough to leave any witnesses or evidence of his crimes, then it was absolutely vital that none of his activities could be traced back to the employer. 

So, while it was convenient to have Lannit commit the crimes, as soon as he’d completed them, he was to be killed. His ship would vanishvanish, and all traces of the abductions would disappear. The employer was supremely confident in achieving all that, but it all hinged on the very narrow time between Lannit’s completion of his orders and his demise.  
To that end, Rurke was compelled to ramp up his end game. Where he had intended to hang back and intervene once Lannit was well on his way back to the new facility with the abducted females, he was now pressed to wait at the periphery of the final star system, ready to ambush Lannit as he emerged into open space.  
He knew he could do that with ease, provided the ever-wary Lannit wasn’t expecting it. The male had grotesque sexual perversions and had lived a despicable life, wholly devoted to serving those perversions, but he didn’t lack intelligence. Far from it, it was his innate rat-cunning that made him so very dangerous ... to anyone who had dealings with him, fellow pervertsperverts, and victims alike.  
The broker gave the employer a long look, knowing he was cognisant of the hovering problems. “It may prove helpful if we laid a false trail with regard to my escort to the facility. The last thing we want is for Lannit Yan to get cold feet at the last moment and decide to do something foolish.”

“Such as?”  
Rurke shrugged. “He is a plotter, a schemer by nature, sirsir; his mind could furnish any number of schemes to both elude me and defraud you ... and save his own skin, of course.”  
“Of course.” The employer agreed drolly. He sighed and made it clear the discussion was taking more of his time than it should. His irritation wasn’t directed at Rurke, though. It was Lannit Yan who was vexing him. “Do you have any suggestions?” he asked, almost but not quite rhetorically. It made Rurke smile knowingly.  
“Yes, sir, as a matter of fact I do.”  
“Tell me.”  
Rurke’s smile grew, as did his anticipation.

Just as Beverly returned to her quarters, a hail came over the comm system requesting the captain to present himself to the starbase for a preliminary interview with the JAG officers.  
Jean-Luc, now sitting at the table with James and cradling Elly in his arms, allowed his eyes to drift up to Beverly’s. He was gratified to see sympathy in her steady gaze. He summoned an unconvincing smile as he slowly rose to his feet. “She’s been changed.” hHe said quietly as he transferred the baby to her mother. “James has had a snack and we’re half way through the story displayed on his PADD.”  
“Ok.” Beverly said, returning his smile. She felt she should say something encouraging but struggled to find the right words. Instead she quickly leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. As she withdrew their eyes met again and she made sure her husband could see her love. His smile changed to one of tender and grateful acceptance. It was obvious her action was far more appreciated than any words she could’ve said.   
He took a step back and gestured to himself. “Do I pass muster?” he asked semi-seriously, knowing his appearance could do to be better, but was beyond his ability to alter.  
Beverly saw the hollow eyes, with their accompanying dark circles beneath, the weight loss and the haunted expression, but she too was aware he could do little about those things so she summoned a bright, though very brittle smile and pronounced, “You’ll do.”  
He sent another weak smile and gestured to the door. “I’d better be going, then.”  
Beverly felt his reluctance, his desirsire to stay in the relative safety of their quarters, but the JAG team weren’t going to just go away. She nodded her agreement and again, allowed her love and sympathy to show. “You’ll be ok.” sShe said quietly, and then added, “And we’ll be here when you come ... home.”  
“Thank you.” Jean-Luc said softly, but brokenly as he left, Beverly just catching sight of his tears as they trickled down his gaunt and stricken face.

The JAG team consisted of three officers, two female and one male. Of the three only one was human, the other two being a Benzite and an Ardanan. The leader was the Benzite female, holding the rank of lieutenant. Her fellow officers were both Lt. JG. They were seated in a typically StarfleetStarfleet-standard, small meeting room, the only concession to Jean-Luc’s rank being the arrangement of the chairs. Instead of using a larger table, with the JAG team seated together and facing their interviewee, thus implying an us-and-them approach, a modest effort had been made to be a little more informal.  
At least for now, as this was a preliminary interview. How things may change in future interviews was yet to be seen. The chairs had been placed in a circle around a low table on which sat a jug of water and four glasses.  
Jean-Luc was moderately surprised when he saw all three officers rise to their feet and offer respectful acknowledgement. He’d assumed that his relieved of duty status, and the fact he had been charged with serious crimes, would’ve removed the requirement for any subordinate officer to forgo the protocol. The Benzite leader noticed his surprise and offered a small smile; although it was obscured somewhat by the breathing apparatus she wore.  
“Nothing has been proven, Captain Picard.” She offered by way of explanation. “Innocent until proven guilty.” Her smile widened.  
“Thank you.” Jean-Luc replied softly, but then added, “But I have been relieved of duty.”

“That may be so, sirsir,” the human male commented, “but you are still a captain and you will be accorded the respect your rank deserves.”  
Tears threatened to well up, appalling Jean-Luc. He savagely quashed them before they could spill over, but he still had to swipe some moisture away. He tried to disguise the action, but his efforts fooled no one. There was a brief, awkward moment, and a little shuffling of feet as the embarrassment peaked and then subsided before the Benzite formally introduced everyone.  
“Captain Picard, I am Lieutenant Bien Orrz, and I lead this team. To my left is Lieutenant JG Jago Ivanovitch and to my right is Lieutenant JG Vnaar Ktul.”  
Jean-Luc, now with his emotions back under somewhat tenuous control, nodded and gave a polite smile. “Normally I’d say I was pleased to meet you, however...”  
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Orrz made a small sound and gestured with her hand. “We understand, sirsir.” Her expression changed now that the civilities had been dealt with. “Captain,” she said briskly, “this is a preliminary interview, but it will be recorded. Should the charges you face be upheld, then some or all of this recording may be entered into court as evidence. Is that understood, sir?”  
“Yes.”

“Very good.” Orrz consulted a PADD, and then directed a steady gaze at Jean-Luc. “The events that led to the charges you face, those being of multiple counts of aggravated rape and deliberate endangerment, occurred whilst you, your wife and children and former Ensign Katya Kurnov were taking an extended leave on Haven, the stardates have been imputed, would you like to check their accuracy?”  
Jean-Luc waved a dismissive hand and Orrz correctly interpreted that as it was intended. “Very well, sirsir, to continue, we have learned that, after discovering Haven’s population was undergoing a shift from its previous secular nature to an aggressively religious one, you downplayed the danger such a shift posed to you, your family and Ms Kurnov. In fact, even when confronted with overtly threatening behaviour from a religious leader, which caused your wife to insist you all leave, you refused to leave the planet. Can you tell us why that was so, sir?”  
When he first attempted to speak, his voice failed him. Jean-Luc cleared his throat and took a few deep breaths before he tried again. “Stubbornness.” He said and in that one word, the JAG team clearly heard his regret and self-recrimination.  
The Ardanan’s eyes narrowed. “Sir?” she asked, her attention highly focused.  
“I was a pig-headed, stubborn fool, Lieutenant.” Jean-Luc somehow kept his head from lowering in shame and maintained eye contact. “I should’ve listened to my wife; I should’ve left while we still could, instead of digging my heels in, in a show of petty hubris.”  
“You are aware, sir, we’ve already conducted preliminary interviews with both Dr. Picard and Ms Kurnov?” Jago Ivanovitch was sitting forward in his chair, his eagerness obvious. His question made Jean-Luc frown.  
“I assumed you’d interviewed Ms Kurnov, but I was unaware Dr Picard had been interviewed.”  
Orrz frowned and again consulted her PADD. “You reside with your family, don’t you?”  
Jean-Luc bristled at her tone, buttone but didn’t rise to it. “Yes.” hHe replied evenly.  
“Yet you didn’t know your wife had been interviewed?”

The emphasis placed on Beverly’s status angered Jean-Luc, causing him to ask with quiet intensity, “What are you implying?”  
“Nothing.” Orrz shrugged, the downward pull of her mouth hidden in a puff of vapour. “It’s just odd, don’t you think, that your wife didn’t tell you she’d undergone a preliminary interview?”  
Before Jean-Luc could respond, Ktul asked, “Have you been residing with your family, Captain?”  
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Jean-Luc’s voice was rough when he replied, “I’ve only recently resumed residing in our quarters.”  
“Oh.” Ktul nodded noncommittally. “And why is that?”

“I would’ve thought that was obvious!” Jean-Luc spat angrily, before regaining control. “After what happened,” he continued in a more reasonable tone, “my family experienced ... discomfort t... in my presence.”  
Orrz stared at her PADD as she seemed to make an entry, while muttering, “Discomfort.”  
Jean-Luc shifted in his seat and immediately admonished himself for exhibiting signs of stress. The interview had only just begun. It continued for a further three gruelling hours.

Will Riker was a frustrated and angry man. He’d undergone his interview with the JAG team and, even though two hours had passed since, he was still highly agitated. Deanna sat calmly, watching as her lover stalked around his quarters, making the room seem small and confining. Deanna sighed as a random thought surfaced. “You’re already a large man, Will,” she noted, “But you appear even bigger when you’re angry.”  
Will had been muttering darkly under his breath, occasionally growling out louder remarks. He came to a sudden stop and glared at nothing in particular. “It’s their damned glib superiority that really gets me, Deannae!” He glowered and narrowed his eyes. “Just who the fuck do they think they are?”

Deanna was aware that Will was venting and that his question was largely rhetorical, but she felt he could do to hear some calm reason. “They’re the team from the Judge Advocate General, Will, and their superiority, glib or otherwise, is unquestionable.”  
Will directed his fierce glare at Deanna, causing her to hold her hands up. “Hey, I’m not your enemy.” sShe commented with a sad smile. “You knew this process was going to be difficult, Will. Just bear in mind that the impartiality and yes, the seeming cruelty of the interview process, will hopefully lead to the charges against the captain being dropped.”  
The husky man walked stiffly to a chair and sat, his posture clearly showing his continuing tension. “Yeah, I know that, but he’s already suffering, they all are, the last thing any of them needs is further aggravation.”  
“Agreed.” Deanna said quietly. “However, without a vigorous exploration of the events by the team, how can they, or anyone else for that matter, find the truth? It has to be determined if anyone faces trial for what happened. Now you and I know the circumstances of the events clearly show that the captain wasn’t responsible for what occurred, but that must be discovered by the JAG team. And once it is, I’ve no doubt the charges will be dropped.”  
“And in the process, they cause him perhaps irreparable psychological damage?” Will grimaced angrily. “That’s just great! The operation was a success, but sorry, the patient died.”  
Deanna gave a caustic look. “Really, Will? You think that kind of attitude is helpful?”

He didn’t reply verbally, he sent an odd look that began as defiant and ended as embarrassed. Hise shoulders sagged a little and his body lost some of its rigidity. “It’s just so ... this whole thing makes me feel so ...”  
“I know.” Deanna commiserated gently. “Me too.”  
There followed a healing silence before Will asked, “You can help him?”  
He’d asked before but Deanna knew he needed reassurance. She hoped she sounded confident as she replied, “Yes. He’ll have to work with me though.” She savagely quashed her doubt.  
Will, understanding all his lover hadn’t said, gave a slow nod. “Yeah. He’ll hate it and struggle with it and it’s going to be hard for you.”  
Deanna decided Will deserved complete honesty. “Yes, to all of that, but I’m not actually sure I can help him.” On seeing Will’s confused look, she clarified, “Oh, I’m sure he can be helped ... eventually ... but I’m not totally confident in my ability to be the one to do that for him.” She sighed deeply and worry creased her brow. “It’s a combination of things, Will, not the least being that I may be too familiar with him.” She lifted her hands, but then let them drop. “I know that sounds like a contradiction, but the very fact I know him so well is a problem in that I may, in an effort to spare him because I’m aware of how he’s been affected by past traumas, not be as strong ... as proactive or as forceful with him as I should be.”  
“Compassion isn’t a fault, Deanna.” Will said quietly. “I’d rather you be the one to counsel him simply because you know him so well, despite the fact that you’re the best counsellor, period.” Will’s gaze intensified as he continued, “Imagine how he’d be with a counsellor he didn’t know when they delved into stuff that caused memories of the Borg or Madred to resurface?”

Deanna grimaced and she shook her head. “That may be so, Will, but that’s just the scenario that might cause me to back off where I should press harder.”  
Will shrugged and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t think that’ll happen, Dee. I’m absolutely certain that, should that scenario arise, that your knowledge, coupled with your past experiences with the captain, will provide you with the right way to help him, whether that means backing off, or going harder.”

A smile crept across Deanna’s face, tentative at first but quickly becoming riant. “I love you, Imzadi.” sShe murmured softly. Will rose and went to kneel at her chair. “And I love you, Imzadi.” hHe replied in the same soft, tender tone. Then he added, “And that love, the love you have for me and share with our dear friends, will be the deciding factor in your success in guiding them all through the mine fields they face.”  
Both Will and Deanna spent some moments enjoying the mutual solace their love provided before each left to continue their shift.

Will had just arrived on the bridge when the tactical officer said quietly, “CommandCaptain er Riker? There’s an incoming call from CommandCommand, sirsir.”  
As Will nodded his acknowledgement he pointed towards the ready room, replying with a half-smile, “Thank you, Eensign, I’ll take it in there.”  
Once seated at the desk, Will opened the channel. After a second or two, a face appeared. Will, on noting the caller’s rank, straightened and offered a respectful nod. “Captain,” he said, his voice carefully modulated. “How can I help you, sirsir?”  
“Hello, CommandCommander, I’ve got a mission for you.” The officer said equitably, getting to the point straight away.  
Will was surprised at how youthful the captain appeared, but then reminded himself of how many up-and-coming young officers had quickly advanced as a result of the recently ended Dominion war. He grimaced silently as he was forced to acknowledge his own advancing years. Nevertheless, he adopted an expression of keen interest. “Really?” he enthused. “Something interesting?”  
The captain’s eyes narrowed, making it easy to see how the stress of her job had begun to erode her youthful looks. She then smiled and gave a small shrug. “Depends.” sShe replied cryptically. “But perhaps you should be careful what you wish for, Commander.”

Will’s eyebrows rose, his enthusiasm giving way to caution. “Good advice, sir, but I’m intrigued now.”  
“Good.” sShe said affably, but then sobered. “We’ve been made aware of some odd traffic in places where such things aren’t supposed to be occurring.” She glanced sideways, as if considering how much information to impart. “Specifically, there are two ships loitering in a distant star system, one that’s not often visited and, due to political expediency, is monitored by us ... and others ... to make sure that the status quo is maintained.  
Will said nothing, knowing there was more to come. “This situation isn’t without precedence, of course,” the captain continued, “there are times when space vessels unintentionally stray into areas they shouldn’t, but what’s really odd is that one of the two ships we’ve become aware of matches the scans taken of a ship the Enterprise encountered recently.”

“How recently?” Will asked respectfully,  
The captain’s eyebrows rose as her gaze sharpened. “Very.” She sighed and rolled her shoulders in an obvious attempt to ease tense muscles. “It’s one of the ships that fled from the site of your captain’s ... recovery.”  
Will suddenly tensed and became wary. “SirSir?” He debated whether he should ... or indeed was permitted, to ask for clarification. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.   
“It’s all right, CommandCommander, those who need to know are up to speed, and that includes me.”   
Will gave a cautious nod, but then remarked quietly, “This channel is not secured, sir.”

“I’m well aware of that, CommandCommander, we won’t be discussing anything sensitive for now, but should that become necessary, then of course we’ll be on an ultra-secure and encrypted channel.”  
She sent Will an intense look that caused him to consider she was trying to tell him something. He frowned, and then gently tapped his monitor. He wasn’t surprised to find a sub-stream intel package piggy-backed onto the open channel. He only had to glace at the configuration to see it was heavily encrypted.  
He offered a smile and a knowing look. The woman relaxed a little. “So, your mission, CommandCommander, is really nothing but house-keeping. You’re to warp over to the indicated star system and find out what the ships are doing and, if you find their trespass is unintended, escort them out.”

“And if it’s discovered their presence is a result of a deliberate incursion?”  
“Then you’re authorised to take whatever action is required to remove them.”  
“Aye, sir.”

The captain smiled and slightly inclined her head. “No doubt I’ll hear from you soon. Commander, out.”  
It was the work of mere moments for Will to gain access to the encrypted package. Once he’d finished reading and listening, he sat back and let out a long breath. “No wonder this was sent secretly.” he mused. “A separate, highly encrypted message might’ve tripped some kind of red flag for our enemies. This just keeps getting more and more fucked up.”   
He sighed and sat back, running a hand through his hair as he contemplated how he was going to tell his friends. He never even considered withholding this latest snafu. Will’s loyalty always lay first with his captain. He wasn’t one to prevaricate; he rose from his chair and went straight to the Picards’ quarters.

Jean-Luc hadn’t been back from the preliminary interview long. He was seated in his favourite chair, staring bleakly into the untouched and rapidly cooling mug of tea he held. Beverly was watching him surreptitiously, taking quick, covert glances as she helped James complete a construction with his modular building blocks.  
She knew her husband was suffering from stress and she also knew he’d’ve preferred a large glass of single malt scotch rather than tea, but until they were both confident his reliance on alcohol to relieve stress, or avoid it, was a thing of the past, then it’d been mutually agreed that he would use his old standby, Earl Grey tea. 

Seeing that James was suitably engrossed, Beverly left him and moved quietly to join Jean-Luc. She perched on the arm of his chair, but when he didn’t react to her presence, she briefly considered gently brushing her fingers over his cheek, but quickly rejected that idea to softly clear her throat instead. It startled him and he almost dropped the mug. “Oh!” he grimaced, trying to cover his lapse. “I um ... I was ...”  
“It’s ok, Jean-Luc,” Beverly replied sympathetically. “I should’ve made my approach more obvious.”

Her reply seemed to annoy the man. He scowled and shook his head, causing irritation to rise in Beverly. Before she could comment on his reaction, he held up a hand and sighed. “I’m sorry.” hHe whispered hoarsely. “I wasn’t directing that at you.”  
His words had the desirsired effect and Beverly calmed. “Where was it directed then?”  
“At me. Squarely and unequivocally at myself.” Jean-Luc leaned forward and carefully placed his now cold tea on the low table. “Had I not done what I did...” his voice faded as his head lowered ands his face crumpled. Beverly watched in dismay as tears welled in his eyes before spilling over the edges and trickling down his face.  
“Jean-Luc,” she said gently, searching for the words that might help him. But before she could voice them, the door chime sounded. “Dammit!” Beverly muttered vehemently under her breath. Years of habit made Jean-Luc straighten in his seat, struggling to stop his tears. “Computer,” Beverly snapped. “Who is at our door?”

“Acting Captain William Riker.”  
Just as Jean-Luc made to bid their caller to enter, Beverly stopped him with a curt gesture. She lifted her head slightly and called, “What is it, Will?”  
The couple clearly heard caution and regret in their friend’s voice as he replied, “I need to see both of you, it’s important, and no, it can’t wait.”  
The couple shared a stricken look before Jean-Luc cleared his throat and said with as much authority as he could muster, “Come.”

The doors parted and Will entered, his restless eyes quickly finding his friends on the far side of the room. As he passed James, he sent a wink and a smile, causing the little boy to chuckle and offer a salute. His eyebrows rose as the sounds of Elly’s soft snuffling came from the master bedroom. Beverly rose and sent Will a meaningful look. “I’ll go and see to little miss, hold off until I return, ok?”  
She didn’t wait for a reply. Will watched as she left the room before politely asking if he could sit. Jean-Luc appreciated the gesture, butgesture but admonished himself for not offering. Even though in a distressed state himself, Jean-Luc was still able to easily see the worry in his friend. It saddened him to know he was probably the cause.

Beverly was quick to return to the men, a freshly changed Elly in her arms. She settled on the sofa next to Will and proceeded to breast feed her daughter, and once Elly was sucking contentedly, Beverly turned her attention to their visitor.  
“Right,” she said decisively. “What’s so important, Will?”

The big man’s expression settled on concerned. “I’ve just had a covert communiqué from Command, but its existence was hidden.”  
A frowning Jean-Luc’s tone clearly showed his irritation. “I would’ve thought with it being a covert communiqué, that would be a given.”  
Will offered an apologetic inclination of his head. “Of course, sir, but this was quite ... different. I received a standard communiqué from Command, but piggy backed to it was the covert one. I was made aware of its existence only by very subtle facial clues from the captain I was speaking to.”

Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose. “Now, that is odd.”  
“Indeed.” Will agreed. “And it’s what I found in that covert message that I’ve come to talk to you...” he turned slightly and smiled awkwardly at Beverly before adding, “to both of you, about.”  
The couple glanced at each other and Will was about to speak again when Beverly interrupted him. “Will,” she said carefully, “you’re aware that the captain has just endured the preliminary JAG interview?”  
Will nodded silently, his expression grim.

“So, you understand how stressful it was for him ... how fragile he is at the moment?”  
Will’s response was again curtailed when Jean-Luc said with umbrage, “Beverly, I’m fine!”  
It was such a familiar and quintessentially Picard thing to say that Beverly and Will’s first reaction was a twitching half smile, but those expressions were quickly replaced by sadness, and in Beverly, also exasperation. However, before she could say anything about it, Will sighed and took the opportunity to deliver his news.

“We’ve been given a mission. On the surface, it’s nothing special, basic traffic management, but beneath the surface, it’s very much more.” He took a deep breath. “When we rescued you there were two ships that escaped.”  
“Two?” Beverly snapped, beating her husband by a nano second.  
“Yes, two.” Will concurred. “One was blasted clear of the asteroid field, carried much like your shuttle on the same shock wave but in a totally different direction. Once we’d rescued you, we did pursue it but another of the group of ships which had initially gathered around the asteroid field set off in pursuit too, and once it became clear that it was heading for Breen territory, we broke off the chase. However, we did confirm that the ship that had been in the field with you was empty when we intercepted it.” Will heaved a sigh. “So, whoever was on it had been recovered by the second ship.” 

There was a long silence as each person considered the news. It was Beverly who asked, “And the other ships? The ones arrayed around the field?”  
“They bugged out as soon as we arrived.” Will spat scornfully.

“The buyers.” Jean-Luc whispered with obvious dread. “There was going to be a bidding war ... we were going to be viewed, picked over by the prospective customers...”  
Beverly struggled to keep her voice calm. “It didn’t happen, Jean-Luc, it’s over. We’re safe now.”

He nodded, but she could see his doubt. It worsened when Will added reluctantly, “There are now two ships in a star system they’ve no right to be in. Our mission is to get to them and find out what they’re doing there and escort them out if we find an honest mistake has caused their presence, but if not, then we’ve been authorised to take whatever action is necessary to remove them.”

Jean-Luc and Beverly were stunned. Such unilateral and seemingly unprovoked actions were rarely ever indulged in by StarfleetStarfleet. Will answered their unasked question by continuing with, “One of the ships is the one that pursued the ship blasted out of the field ... the same one that took whoever had been aboard, and then hightailed it off to Breen territory.”  
“So, there’s a political agenda at work.” Jean-Luc muttered darkly. 

Will let out a derisive huff. “Yes, sirsir, but there’s more. I only became aware of your,” again he gestured to Beverly and the children to include them, “... disappearance when I was contacted by an old friend. He refused to go into details, but he’d been contacted by some kind of ally of the Federation, a clandestine agent I think, who’d seen some vids ... basically advertisements for your ... forgive me ... your sale. I guess it put a flea up Command’s arse, because of just who these ads were aimed at ... and who, of those individuals, responded. So, although it was never official, I was given the task of finding you and, if possible, rescuing you.”  
“And the political undertone?” Jean-Luc asked dryly.

Will’s expression hardened. “That was in the covert communiqué I received.” He then amended, “At least some of it.”   
“Go on.” Jean-Luc’s tone was bleak.  
“Well, I guess you’d be able to name the prospective buyers, there’d be no shortage of Cardassians or Romulans who hold a grudge against you, big enough to want to indulge this kind of vengeance against you, but it was the main player that caught the agent’s attention.”

Beverly asked softly, “Who was it?”  
“I don’t know the name or gender, but it was a Tholian.”  
“The Hegemony.” Jean-Luc sounded desperately tired, as if the very words were crushing him and sapping his meagre strength.  
Will shrugged. “I don’t know if the Hegemony itself is involved, or if this is the work of one individual.”  
Beverly scowled angrily. “Does it matter?” she spat.

Jean-Luc’s eyes narrowed in thought. “There’s a Tholian...” his eyes closed as he struggled to bring a distant memory to the fore. “He...” The captain snapped his fingers. “The Federation has dealt with him in the past ... and if I’m right, this being does his clandestine work through a broker, at least he did when we first became aware of his existence.” Jean-Luc shook his head. “But that was years ago...”  
Beverly had swapped Elly to the other breast and was shaking her head. “So, what did he do back then?”

A grimace of frustration emerged on Jean-Luc’s face. “I can’t recall all the details, but I seem to remember he was trying to form a labour force to build something. We found out because Federation citizens were being abducted as slaves for this project. We never discovered it, or figured out exactly what it was, but we know that a broker was used to hire the abductors. The Tholian was never actually physically involved.”  
Will’s comment showed his disgust. “Kept his hands clean.”

“Yes.” Jean-Luc agreed. “We never found the abducted Federation citizens, or any of the others taken from non-member worlds, but we did manage to stop the raids within our borders.”  
Beverly carefully disengaged the baby from her breast and lifted her to her shoulder. As she gently patted and rubbed her back she asked, “So, do we know anything about this broker? It seems likely, if it is indeed the same Tholian, that he might still be using the same help?”

“It’s certainly possible,” Will said, nodding carefully, but then dropped his bombshell. “The thing is,is it seems the Tholian is trying to put together some breeding stock.”  
“What?” Beverly and Jean-Luc said in unison. It caused Will to raise a placating hand. “We don’t know for sure, but so far our source says that the intended purpose of the ships we’ve been sent to remove from the star system they’re in is abduction of beings. Now my first assumption on learning that was that another slave labour force was being taken, that was until I heard that the specific targets are exclusively female and of breeding age.”  
Into the stunned silence, Will said cautiously, “And given what happened to you and Katya...”

“Oh, god...” Beverly gasped. Jean-Luc, whose face was already ashen, suddenly paled further and covered his face with his hands. “No.” hHe whispered piteously, “Please ... no...”  
Will understood the shock his friends were experiencing, but he sensed there was more in his captain’s reaction. The big man leaned forward and gently gripped the older man’s arm. “SirSir?” he asked cautiously.  
Jean-Luc dislodged Will’s hand and rose on shaking legs. He had a panicked expression as his eyes darted around his quarters. Beverly was about to stand up when her husband suddenly blurted, “I have to ... I can’t ... I’ve got to go...”  
He walked stiffly across the room and, as the doors parted, he looked over his shoulder and tried to speak, but no words emerged. He gave a stricken look and abruptly left.

Beverly looked at Will, shock and fear contorting her features. James, his wobbling voice evidence he’d picked up on the tension and confusion, said softly, “Papa?”  
On seeing Beverly was making Elly comfortable on a rug, Will went to James and lowered his large frame to the floor. He gently ruffled the boy’s hair and offered a smile. “It’s ok, James, your pPapa is just feeling a bit upset.”  
Will’s heart squeezed on seeing tears welling in James’s eyes. “Will pPapa come back?” hHe asked in a very small voice.

“Yes, he will.” The acting captain said with confidence. Then an idea occurred, and his smile widened. It was for James’s benefit, but he hoped it was well-founded. “As a matter of fact, I’ll call Aunt Deanna and I’ll ask her to go and talk to your pPapa. I’m sure she’ll be able to make him feel batter.”  
“Ok.”

By the time Will rejoinedre-joined Beverly he had made a discreet call to Deanna, briefly outlining what had occurred. All they could do now was wait.

Lannit came to think of the abductions as harvesting. In his mind he was gathering the ripe receptacles for seed implantation, and, after delivering the desirsired product, they would be given a brief respite before being implanted again. He wondered idly, as he stared coldly at the calculations before him, just how many times the employer would use the females until they no longer fitted his purposes.   
With a deep sigh he shrugged and gave a mental shake. “I suppose it depends on the quality of the product they deliver.” He mused wryly. “If the product fails to meet whatever standard’s been set, I’ll be sent to get new stock.” A decidedly evil smile creased his face. “And those deemed unfit will be mine.”

Lannit had decided to dismiss Rurke’s warnings and contented himself to imagine a future filled with a variety of young females ready, if not willing, to serve his debauched needs.   
To cover ... or compensate for the terror Rurke had instilled in him, he’d somehow convinced himself that he was indispensibleindispensable and worthy of being rewarded with the potentially unwanted females. Even though his penis was still a ruined mess, some of the ravaged tissue began to harden. He winced and bared his yellowing teeth. “I’ll make you pay for that.” hHe growled. “You viridian fucker, Rurke.”  
UnfortunatelyUnfortunately, the intense pain reminded Lannit of the danger his fantasies posed should he ever try to act on them. Passing time dreaming of what he would like to have was one thing, but successfully negotiating his way through the perilous times ahead and preferably to come out alive and in one piece was quite another.

A soft alert from his computer informed him that he was approaching the next planet. He cancelled the alert and made a cursory check of the holding cell. He smiled as he watched the four pubescent girls, noting with satisfaction their frightened expressions. His hand dropped to his groin in a purely automatic action and the resulting pain as he brushed his hand over his mutilated genitals made him snarl with barely suppressed fury.  
It filled him so quickly, and with such potency, his vision momentarily blurred. It was so tempting to vent his feelings on the girls, his mind furnished vivid images of what he wanted to do, but even though his growing delusion of his being indispensibleindispensable offered a modicum of relief, it was inevitable that the longer he failed to act on his desirsires the more dangerous he became. It was only a matter of time before the unmet outlet caused him to totally ignore Rurke’s warnings.  
He barked a curt Commandcommand to the ship’s computer and watched in sullen anger as the vessel took up a geosynchronous orbit. The coordinated beam-out sites were already imputed, and it was the matter of mere moments before three more females suddenly materialised in the holding cell. Lannit watched with a mixture of cold satisfaction and lascivious hunger as the other cell occupants reacted with fear and shock. 

The females separated themselves by species and cowered. Lannit considered watching longer, butlonger but snarled as he remembered he had to authorise the next destination. He suspected this protocol was only a token gesture, either from the broker or the employer, designed to give him some semblance of control, but the fact he was well aware that he could do nothing without permission made the entire thing a farce. And, of course, Lannit knew that Rurke was lurking, silently observingobserving, and reporting back to the employer.

“Well,” Lannit thought with vindictive pleasure. “We’ll see how you do without the employer, Rurke. Once I relieve him of his wealth, we’ll see if you can withstand my version of punishment.” He let out a bark of demented laughter. “And the employer will get his too.” The laughter increased to almost hysterical levels.   
It was obvious Lannit Yan was descending into insanity. “They’ll all pay for what they did to me!”

He brought his fist down on the console so hard that the clear aluminium cover cracked, but the console reacted to the tactile Commandcommand. The ship turned on its axis and left the planet at a leisurely ¼ impulse. The females in the holding cell remained crouched on opposite sides of the room, terrified.

Having left the Picards’ quarters, Will had made his way back to the ready room. He was seated at the desk, his face showing his concentration as he listened to someone on the monitor.  
“So, yes,” the female voice was saying. “Thanks to the help the Federation sent us, we do have some more information.”  
Will sat forward and offered a hopeful smile. “And you can share?”   
Investigator Vurenn gave Will a knowing look and returned Will’s smile with one of her own. “Considering we may not have gathered the new information without the Federation’s help, it’d be pretty petty of me, if not downright rude of me to refuse, don’t you think?”

Will shrugged, making it obvious the decision wasn’t one he could make. Vurenn appreciated the gesture and gave a gracious nod. “Thanks for giving me the choice, Captain.” She smiled again, and then adopted a more professional mien. “So, more information. We now know that Lannit Yan was definitely the leader of the two ... and yes, it was just the two of them ... and Twenth the follower, but of the two it was Lannit who was the more unstable. Mind you,” Vurenn stressed quietly, “tThey were both seriously affected by mental aberrations. They were both sexual sadists and thought nothing of murder, but Lannit was, by far, more debauched than Twenth.”   
Vurenn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Using the long reach of the Federation, we’ve discovered that these two individuals have tried this scheme of theirs elsewhere, though certainly not as such a sophisticated one as they used here on Haven. They’ve indulged almost exclusively in blackmail before in various guises and on several planets, but it wasn’t until they arrived here that their original routine evolved into the cult-abduction scenario we experienced.”  
Will nodded thoughtfully before saying, “You received my message about Twenth?”

“Yes, I did.” sSighed Vurenn. “I doubt anyone will mourn him.”  
“Agreed, but we’re still trying to find Lannit Yan. Any ideas?”  
The investigator shrugged. “Perhaps, although I can’t verify what I’ve heard.”  
“Understood.”

“The whispers have it that after Lannit and Twenth left here and after Lannit’s encounter with your ship, someone of considerable influence became involved. It’s not known who, or indeed in what way this alleged involvement takes shape, but if there’s now a powerful entity dabbling in this scheme, then things have just become significantly more complicated, and,” she sighed heavily, “tTotally out of our remit.”  
“I understand.” Will remarked sympathetically. “Your focus has to remain on the crimes committed by Lannit and Twenth on Haven. Unless it can be proved that this influential person was in on it from the beginning, you’ve no grounds to pursue them.”  
“Exactly.”

Will had already decided to divulge all he knew. Vurenn had given him assistance in the past, and he wanted to return the gesture. “We’ve been given reason to believe that the individual you’ve mentioned is a Tholian male, possible one the Federation’s had dealings with before. We are, at present, on a mission to intercept two ships that are in an area of space they’re not supposed to be in. We suspect Lannit Yan is on one of those ships.”  
Vurenn’s expression showed her keen interest. “And the Tholian? Is he thought to be on the other ship?”  
“We don’t know.” Will let out a frustrated breath, then added, “But probably not. This Tholian has worked with a broker in the past, someone who does the hiring to carry out tasks that are not exactly legal, as well as being an active agent of his employer’s schemes, so it’s highly likely thishe broker, or someone doing the same job, is on the second ship.”  
“Damn.” Vurenn said softly. She then straightened and adopted a steely look. “Still, what you’ve told me is very helpful. Armed with this new information we can put out feelers ... gather news ... perhaps create a more complete picture to share with you. Haven hosts beings from many, many worlds; you’d be surprised by what they sometimes do in appreciation for their stay here. We might not be able to act on any new information, but I can certainly share anything I hear with you.”  
“That’d be great, thank you.” Will’s gratitude was heartfelt. He terminated the connection and sat back, his mind turning over the interception of the two ships.


	7. Chapter 7

Deanna found Jean-Luc in a quiet observation room. The lights were low, but she’d already sensed his mood. He was calm and, she was relieved to find, sober. His emotions spiked when she entered the room, but he savagely quashed them, employing phenomenal mental strength to achieve a level of sustainable control.

The counsellor moved silently, coming to stand beside the now pensive man. She allowed a protracted silence before saying softly, “The eye of the storm has a calm centre.”  
When Jean-Luc didn’t offer any response, Deanna continued, “It’s a false impression, though. As soon as the eye passes, the storm resumes with full intensity.”  
Jean-Luc half turned and dragged his eyes away from the vista of the passing stars. “That’s true.” He agreed quietly. “But if one takes adequate shelter, the storm’s fury is ineffectual.”  
Deanna considered his response and gave him an admonishing smile. “So where are you now, Captain? Preparing for the resumption of the storm, or in a shelter, never to know when it’s safe to emerge?”  
Jean-Luc tried for a reproving look, butlook but fell well short. “That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think, Counsellor?”  
“No. Captain, I don’t.”

He gave the impression of dismissing Deanna by turning his attention back to the stars. His words were directed at the vast void of space. “Well, you’re entitled to your opinion, Counsellor; however, I don’t share it.”   
“Captain...”  
His tone carried a note of finality. “I’m fine, Counsellor, I really don’t require your help.”  
Deanna was growing exasperated by her cCaptain’s attitude, but she shoved it aside and regrouped. “There was a writer,” she said quietly, “Russian, I think, who said something about everyone being happy in different ways, but everyone’s sadness being the same.”

Jean-Luc jerked his head around and sent a hot glare. “I am neither happy nor sad, Counsellor.”   
“Are you sure, Captain? Because you should be.”  
His jaw muscles rippled as he clenched his teeth. “At present I don’t feel I have reason to feel either.”  
“You can’t feel sad about what happened or happy that you were rescued?”  
“I didn’t say I can’t feel those things, I said I don’t feel them. There’s a difference.”  
“Perhaps.” Deanna conceded. “But I think you’re splitting hairs.” Before he could respond, Deanna continued, “And it’s because you’ve chosen the shelter option, Captain.”  
Again Jean-Luc opted for silence, making Deanna sigh. “For some reason, you’ve decided to forego my help, despite your assurances toof the oppositecontrary. Now I have to analyse this, I have to try and find why you’ve chosen this path, and I can only arrive at one conclusion.”

When her captain still refused to respond, Deanna sighed again and delivered her verdict. “There’s something you’re hiding, something that’s so devastating you can’t, or won’t share. I don’t know if this choice has been made due to fear or shame, but as long as you refuse to tell me what it is, the longer you’ll be held prisoner in the shelter. And that shelter will undoubtedly become a prison.”  
“I’m fine, Counsellor.” Jean-Luc repeated softly, yet doggedly. 

Deanna’s voice carried her sorrow. “Someone, I believe it was Kurt Vonnegut, wrote something about the wearing of masks. He said we all had to be careful about the masks we choose to wear because in time we become them, or they become us. What he was saying is that if we want to be happy, or ... brave ... we pretend or act. We find the mask that suits. The danger, of course, is losing the truth of our feelings.” Deanna left then without another word.  
Jean-Luc didn’t move when Deanna left. His eyes stared sightlessly into the cold, vast darkness of space, his mind light years away.

The JAG team had met in one of the cafes on the star base. Bien Orrz sighed,sighed; her inhaled breath sucked up by the apparatus she wore. “I don’t think he has anything to answer for.” she said with a shrug. “Yes, there’s no doubt he committed the acts he’s accused of, but he was under the influence of drugs, administered against his wishes by those implicated in his and the other victims’ abductions, and so not in control of his actions.”   
“True,” Jago Ivanovitch conceded. “But there’s little or no evidence of the alleged drugs or indeed of those implicated. We have corroborating testimonies, yes, but no hard evidence.”   
“We have the vids.” Vnaar Ktul remarked.

“Agreed.” Ivanovitch nodded, his expression worried. “But they don’t constitute proof. They’re an after affect. There’s nothing to prove conclusively how the victims came to be in the situation they found themselves in.”  
“It’s doubtful we’ll ever have conclusive proof, Vnaar.” Orrz said quietly. “The thing is, can we arrive at any sort of resolution, given the information we have at hand?”  
Ktul shrugged. “I don’t think there’s any more evidence to see. We have the testimonies of all three victims and the corroborate each other. Yes, one of the alleged perpetrators is still at large and the other is dead, but unless the at-large perp is captured, then we’re no further advanced in our investigation and unlikely to get any further.”  
“So, you think we should make a decision on what we have?” Orrz asked both team members.  
The others nodded, but Ivanovitch added, “Yes, but I think of the charges laid, the one that holds up is deliberate endangerment. Picard should’ve acknowledged the obvious danger the cult presented. His intractable stance exposed his family and Katya Kurnov to unacceptable danger. What eventuated could, in legal terms, be laid at his feet.”

“Hmm.” Orrz hummed. “But it could also be argued that the cult leaders, having set their sights on Picard and the others, were going to abduct them regardless of Picard’s stubborn disregard of the warnings.”  
Ktul nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true, but the others, his wife, and his children, and Kurnov, they had the opportunity to leave. They were not constrained in any way. And do we want to embark on a legal free-for-all, when the outcome seems already predetermined? Any defence lawyer worth their salt could derail any attempt hold Captain Picard responsible for what happened.”  
There was a lengthy silence while each member contemplated the question. It was Ktul who provided the answer. “No.” she declared firmly. “No, we don’t.”  
Orrz sat up and gave each of her team a long look. “So, we interview Picard again?”  
Each of the others shook their head to indicate a negative response. “Ok,” Orrz nodded. “We return a finding of ‘No cases to answer’.”  
Ktul and Orrz glanced at each other then, nodded. “So be it.” Orrz said solemnly. “I’ll inform Command and all the participants.”   
The team made preparations to leave immediately.

Katya stared open-mouthed at the monitor as she read. In the close confines of her small cabin, she felt like the walls were closing in. “No!” she whispered vehemently. “They can’t do this; they can’t just brush this aside!”  
She shoved herself away from the table and began to stalk around her quarters, seething with anger. “No case to answer?” she spat. “No case? How the fuck could they come to that decision?”  
She then halted and fisted her hands. “Collusion! Somehow that shit, Picard, has convinced them to drop it, to ignore the facts!”  
Katya took two quick steps towards her table but then abruptly halted. She regained her seat and descended into deep thought. “But I can’t do anything about this without exposing myself.” she thought feverishly. “I’d scuttle any hope of keeping my privacy intact. Once the media finds out who the rapist is it’ll become a shit-for-all ... and then there’s my family...”  
She shot to her feet and screamed until she was hoarse. When the emotional storm abated a deflated and defeated Katya lay on her bed and cried herself to a fitful sleep, populated with monsters, each bearing Jean-Luc’s leering, slavering face.

James was asleep in bed when Jean-Luc returned to his quarters. Beverly was seated on the sofa, reading from a PADD while Elly had some time lying naked on a soft, absorbent mat on the floor. The red head glanced up, butup but gave no acknowledgement of her husband’s entry. He paused briefly, then made his way to the replicator. “Tea, Earl Grey, hot.” he murmured quietly, then risked a question. “Would you like anything, Beverly?”  
She replied unemotionally. “No, thank you.”

He retrieved his tea and ambled to his chair, trying to affect an unruffled appearance. It was a lie, of course. He seemed outwardly calm, but inside he was in turmoil. Having taken his seat, he sipped and let out a soft “Ah,” of appreciation.  
There ensued a long, uncomfortable silence before Beverly asked, “So, where have you been?”  
Jean-Luc’s reply was subdued. “Oh ... some observation lounge.”  
Beverly’s tone became brittle. “And are you sober?”  
“Yes.” he replied hotly through gritted teeth, but then quashed his irritation. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Yes,” he said in a much more reasonable tone. “I’m utterly sober.”  
Beverly’s eyebrows rose archly. “Good. Makes a nice change.”  
Jean-Luc resisted the urge to snap a heated reply, opting instead to concentrate on his tea. Beverly recognised his ploy for what it was and decided to give him a break. She gently placed her PADD on the low table and adopted a mildly sympathetic expression. “How are you feeling?”

Jean-Luc almost replied, “I’m fine.” but caught himself just in time, therefore dodging a bullet. “I’m feeling...” he cast about for an appropriate description of his current emotions, butemotions but found himself floundering as too much flooded his mind. Beverly seemed to sense his difficulty and gave him some help.   
“I guess you must feel pretty shocked ... I know I do. Hearing about those two ships...”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc blurted, and then grimaced at the unintentional lapse. Again, he moderated his response. “Yes, it was a shock.”  
Another awkward silence ensued between the couple, the only sounds coming from a contented Elly as she enjoyed her freedom on the mat, unencumbered by a nappy or clothing. However, Beverly wasn’t about to let the moment pass. She had to keep the lines of communication open. She knew all too well how easily her husband would retreat into silence, giving away the chance to expose his wounds.  
“I wonder if Lannit Yan is on one of those ships?” Beverly said quietly.

Jean-Luc looked up from his contemplation of his tea to nod. He was going to leave it at that, but then realised it was in his best interests to engage in the fledgling conversation. “If he is, I hope he’s captured. He has a lot to answer for.”  
“That’s putting it mildly.” Beverly dredged up a small smile. Despite her determination to keep the dialogue flowing, Beverly struggled to find the words. She eventually sighed and offered shrug. “Well, it’s up to Will. Once he finds the ships, he’ll have to discover who’s on them. He can’t take any action against the occupants until he’s determined that.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc replied agreed lamely, but then rallied to added, “And he has to discover how the ships came to be there ... and why they’re there.”  
“Yes.” Beverly agreed, offering a quietly enthusiastic nod. She was encouraged by Jean-Luc’s willingness to try and hold his end of the conversation up, and she was about to say more when both hers and Jean-Luc’s computers pinged with an incoming message. The couple sent each other a worried frown and then rose together. They each went to their monitors, activated them, and read.  
Beverly looked up and watched as her husband sank into histhe desk’s chair. He seemed crumpled, somehow. Alarm flashed through the doctor as she feared he was reading something completely opposite to what she’d just read. She hurried to his side and read what was on his monitor screen. Her alarm vanished to be replaced by confusion. “They’re the same.” she murmured quietly. She looked down at Jean-Luc and shook her head. “It’s over; they’ve decided you have no case to answer.”  
When he didn’t respond, Beverly placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jean-Luc,” she said firmly, but with gentleness. “It’s over. The JAG team have decided not to pursue the matters any further. You can relax.”  
He lifted his head slowly and gave his wife an incredulous look . “Relax?” he said brokenly. “I can relax?”

Beverly sensed he was about to descend into a self-flagellating tirade, so she raised her voice. “Yes! It’s over!”  
“It’ll never be over!” Jean-Luc growled as he rose to his feet. “What I did ... what I did to you and...”  
“Stop it!” Beverly yelled, but then grimaced when a startled Elly began to cry. Beverly went to the little girl and scooped her up into her armsDr. As Beverly cuddled hertheir daughter she said mildly, “We’ll get through this, Jean-Luc. We’ll work with Deanna and we’ll make it out of this in one piece. All of us. You and me and the kids.”  
With a phenomenal amount of mental strength, remarkable given how weakened he’d become, Jean-Luc shoved his anger, guilt, and anguish aside. He summoned a grimly determined expression and offered a short nod. “Yes.” he said quietly, “Yes, we’ll work with Deanna and we’ll get through this. Together.”

“And now you can accept that help knowing you won’t have to endure a trial.” Beverly smiled tenderly. “Not that I think that was ever going to happen anyway.” She added hastily, her smile an encouraging one.  
Jean-Luc returned her smile and sighed. “Thank you, Beverly.” he said softly. “That means a lot great deal to me.”  
There ensued a gentle silence before Beverly said brightly, “I bet you haven’t had anything to eat. How about you put a nappy on Elly, give her a cuddle and then dress her in her sleep onesie and put her to bed while I rustle up a light meal?”  
Instead of replying verbally, Jean-Luc simply held out his hands, a tender smile gracing his face as Beverly placed his daughter in his armsDr. He did as Beverly suggested, and she was surprised when he emerged from their bedroom far sooner than she thought he would. He smiled, knowing what had caused her raised eyebrows. “She must’ve been very tired.” he said by way of explanation. “She went to sleep in my arms.”  
“Well, I’d fed her just before you came in and she does miss you when you’re not here...”  
That remark caused Jean-Luc’s previous paternal glow to quickly fade. Beverly saw what was happening and hastened to make amends. “I meant nothing by that, Jean-Luc; I’m simply saying that Elly’s aware when you’re not here.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “Think of it as a good thing.”

“A good thing?” Jean-Luc replied somewhat suspiciously.  
“Yes. Our little girl is only two months old, yet she’s aware enough to recognise when her family is complete and when it’s not.”  
“And if it’s not?” Jean-Luc asked. “How does she react?” He was growing genuinely curious.  
“She becomes unsettled.” Beverly smiled. “Not badly, it’s subtle, but it’s definite.”  
“That is remarkable.” Jean-Luc replied, impressed.  
“It is.” Beverly agreed, deciding now wasn’t the time to clarify the matter by telling her husband that the baby’s reactions were an evolutionary holdover and not uncommon. Beverly felt it was far more important that her fragile husband feel happiness and paternal pride in his daughter’s accomplishments. He needed good feelings at the moment.  
They ate the meal Beverly had replicated; then went to sit in the living area. Having gauged the atmosphere as positive, Beverly said quietly, “I was thinking tomorrow would be a good time to have Deanna come by.”  
Jean-Luc glanced up, fear skittering across his face. “Tomorrow?”  
Beverly gave a feigned-nonchalance shrug. “Why not?” 

He didn’t have an answer to that, so Beverly continued. “We have to start sometime, might as well be sooner rather than later.”  
A frown settled on Jean-Luc’s face, but he didn’t refute what his wife had said. Instead he sighed, fatalistically. “I suppose.” he muttered grudgingly. Although his response had shown his reluctance, Beverly was heartened that he didn’t reject the idea outright.  
“Good.” she said brightly. “I’ll call her now and set it up.” Jean-Luc nodded morosely as he rose. As Beverly contacted Deanna and made the arrangements, she watched as Jean-Luc went into the bedroom and then re emergedre-emerged carrying a pillow and blanket. Her heart squeezed as she realised what he was doing.  
Once Beverly finished her call with Deanna, she devoted her attention to her husband. “I’m sorry.” she murmured with quiet sadness.  
“Don’t be. It’s all right.”   
A tear trickled down Beverly’s face. “No.” she sighed. “It’s not, but I’m just not ready to ... not yet...”  
Jean-Luc placed the pillow and blanket on the sofa and went to his wife. He offered his hand and was immensely gratified when she didn’t hesitate to take it. “I understand, Beverly.” he said gently. “I feel it too. I’m just as nervous to sleep in the same bed as you, as you are to do the same with me.”  
Beverly brushed away her tears and gave a watery smile. “Time.” Was all she managed to say, leaving Jean-Luc to complete her thought.   
“Yes.” he agreed, his soft, deep voice breaking. “We just need time.” 

We’ll heal with time.” Beverly smiled as she agreed, but her expression suddenly changed to one of obvious pain. An alarmed Jean-Luc caught her as her knees buckled. “Beverly!” he cried. “What’s wrong?”  
The suffering woman curled onto her side, her hands going to her lower belly. “Call sickbay!” she managed through gritted teeth. Jean-Luc abruptly realised what was happening an initially froze, prompting Beverly to yell, “For god’s sake, Jean-Luc, call sickbay!”  
Jean-Luc snapped out of his inaction and slapped his comm badge. “Medical emergency, Picard quarters!” He ignored the reply, opting to ask Beverly, “What can I do?”  
With the pain escalating rapidly, all Beverly could do was shake her head, unable to speak. Jean-Luc activated his comm badge again. “Troi to captain’s quarters immediately!”  
Beverly heard the order and managed to nod her approval. Deanna must’ve been close by as she arrived in less than a minute. She hurried in just as the medical team arrived. While the team performed their initial scans and then administered some light pain relief, Jean-Luc stood by Deanna’s side, watching with distress as his wife suffered.   
The petite counsellor placed a comforting hand on his arm. “This was expected, Captain.” she said quietly. Jean-Luc nodded mutely; anguish momentarily robbing him of speech. Deanna sighed as they saw Beverly being placed on a gravibed, prior to being taken to sickbay.

“You go, Captain, be with her, I’ll stay here and mind the children.”  
The horror of the situation made Jean-Luc hesitate. He turned his stricken face to Deanna’s and saw her gentle encouragement. “Go.” she repeated quietly, yet firmly. “Beverly needs you.”  
Still he hesitated. “I caused this...” he whispered brokenly.  
“Go!” Deanna insisted gently.  
Finally convinced, Jean-Luc left and hurried to catch up with the team. 

Will peered at the forward viewscreen, the image displayed on it making him purse his lips in thought. “So that’s them.” he stated coolly.   
“Yes, sir.” The young lieutenant at tactical replied.  
“Ok,” Will muttered thoughtfully, “So, I take it you can plot the course they took to arrive in the system?’  
Again, the junior officer replied, “Yes, sir.”  
“Then let’s see it.”

The image altered, the aspect drawing back to display a much larger area of space and with the paths both ships had taken to arrive at their present locations represented by two light blue lines, terminating at two bright orange dots that signified the ships.  
Will tilted his head and idly scratched his beard. “They’re never together. One is always at a distance from the other, though not too far.” He turned to address the tactical officer directly. “Given what we know about sensors, ours and otherwise, is the distance between the ships within their sensor range?”  
“Definitely, Captain.”  
“Ok, then what about scanners?”  
The officer gave that several seconds thought, then nodded. “Yes, sir, I’d say so. If it waswere us, we’d manage that, but it’d be slightly attenuated at that range. If those ships are scanning each other, and if precision’s required, then I’d suggest they’d need to do some tweaking to achieve that.” The young female shrugged before adding, “That’s if they haven’t developed a new, more efficient scanning system we don’t yet know about.”  
“Yeah, there’s always that.” Will muttered dryly as he turned back to the screen. “And when will we be within scanning range?”  
“Three hours, sir.”  
“Both ships?”

“Yes, Captain. Our approach vector will have both ships fall into our range at the same time and the precision of our scans will, of course, increase as we get closer.”  
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Will’s mind turned the information over and arrived at an interesting supposition. “I don’t think they’re scanning each other; I think one is watching the other.” he thought silently. “And if that’s the case, it might just add a string to my bow.”  
The husky man turned back to the tactical officer. “Lieutenant, as soon as those ships come into our scanning range, I want you to pay particular attention to any scanning activity between them.”  
The young female frowned. “Do you mean any scans they make of the Enterprise, Captain?”  
“That’s standard procedure, Lieutenant.” Will replied dryly, making the female blush. Will let her off the hook. “But I was referring to any scans one ship may make of the other.”  
“Yes, sir.” The relived officer said. Will nodded and decided he needed to make heavily encrypted contact with his old friend, Juan.   
“You have the bridge, Lieutenant; I’ll be in the ready room.”  
“Aye, Captain.”

Neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly was prepared for what followed. On a purely medical level, Beverly was well aware of what was happening and fully understood the treatment that was administered, but still the wrenching emotional pain far exceeded the physical agony she endured.   
As Selar had warned, the use of powerful analgesics was something she wished to avoid; wanting instead to preserve her patient’s recovering body chemistry. With so many unknown drugs already in her system, Selar wanted to limit both the amount of drugs she administered and their potency. Because of this, Beverly had to suffer the prolonged labour as her body expelled the malformed embryos.   
Jean-Luc sat by his wife’s bedside, holding one of her hands as she lay curled on her side. His expression was blank; he had sunk into the depths of guilt, anguish, shame, and helplessness. His pallor was ashen, his head bowed. Beverly knew he was there and took some comfort in his presence, but even through her suffering she felt his devastation. Five and a half long hours after it had begun, the expulsion finally drew to a close.  
Selar, who had been carefully monitoring her patient, leaned over the bed a little way and adopted a gentleness Beverly had rarely seen in her before. “It’s all but over, Doctor Picard. All that remains is for the expulsion of a small amount of residual uterine matter and the process will be complete.”

“Thank you, Selar.” Beverly whispered tiredly. “I would like to go back to our quarters to recover, if that’s all right with you?”  
Selar nodded. “Yes, that would be acceptable. Also, I will administer garmazine. As you know, it is a natural substance, and it will assist in your body in restoring your reproductive organs. I don’t anticipate any adverse reactions to this treatment, but as a precaution I do want you to monitor yourself carefully. If you detect any anomalous symptoms you are to contact me immediately.”  
Beverly nodded her agreement as Selar, and Jean-Luc helped her into a sitting position. “I take it the levels of the alien drugs in my system have reduced?” she asked quietly.  
“Yes,” Selar replied cautiously, “however traces do remain so it’s imperative you keep that in mind.”  
“Will do.” Beverly looked at her husband and held up her hand in a silent request for help. He rose to his feet and assisted her from the bed and then, in shattered silence, escorted her back to their home.  
As soon as they entered their quarters, Deanna moved to join Jean-Luc in supporting Beverly as they steered her to the bedroom. It wasn’t until she was in bed and asleep that the two seated themselves in the living area. Deanna already knew how her captain was feeling and she also knew it was important that she try to get him talking.

Her opening gambit wrong footed Jean-Luc. He’d been expecting her to adopt her counsellor’s mantle, but she surprised him by saying brightly, “James didn’t wake. Elly did, but a change of nappy and a bottle soon had her nodding off again.”  
“That’s good.” Jean-Luc replied, still wary. He then lapsed into a prolonged silence and showed no inclination to end it. It eventually caused Deanna to sigh theatrically.   
“All right, Captain, if you won’t engage in general small talk, how about you tell me how you’re feeling?”  
He was irritated at her sarcastic tone, but he chose to ignore it. “I’m fine, Counsellor, I don’t require your help at this point in time.”  
Deanna’s exasperation coloured her tone. “Captain...”

“Counsellor.” he replied stonily, but then relented. “Deanna, really, I’m fine.” Before she could remonstrate with him, he held up a placatory hand. “Yes,” he said quietly, “right now I feel all kinds of dreadful emotions but that will ease to more tolerable levels as Beverly recovers from this...” he waved his hand towards the bedroom, “this calamity. And once we’re both feeling stronger, I assure you we’ll seek your assistance.”  
Deanna’s head tilted slightly as she considered his words. She then sighed. “Well at least that was honest.” She ignored his pinched expression. “Beverly had organised an appointment for both of you with me later today.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose as he realised the new day had begun, although it was still very early. “I am aware of that,” he sighed deeply, “however I still think...”  
“No, Captain,” Deanna interrupted, “don’t think ... just accept that I’ll return at the appointed time to begin your joint therapy.” Her expression hardened. “Today.” she added firmly.  
Jean-Luc wanted to argue, to insist she leave them alone, but a more insistent voice inside him told him that would be the wrong thing to do. With a defeated sigh he nodded and offered a small wave of his hand. “Very well.”  
Deanna got to her feet and instead of stepping towards the doors; she surprised him by going to him and gently squeezing his shoulder. “As Beverly heals, body and mind, so will you.” she murmured softly. Deanna left then, leaving Jean-Luc sitting in his chair, his gaze directed out at the passing stars.

Will was in a sombre mood as the call was answered, yet his face still split into a wide grin as Juan’s image appeared. “Hey, Will.” The gregarious man exclaimed with obvious warmth.  
“Hey yourself, Juan.” Will replied with equal fondness. The two men allowed a moment of silence before Juan’s expression changed.   
“How’s it going, Will?” he asked quietly, his tone reflecting the seriousness of his question. “I see the JAG has decided that Captain Picard won’t face any trial over what happened.”  
Will shrugged, his face abruptly losing the smile. “Yeah, that’s true, but the interviews were hard on him, on top of everything else. They were hard for all concerned, actually.” Will sighed and Juan could easily see his friend’s sorrow. “Their recovery ... It’s a day-by-day thing, Juan.”

“Yeah ... that’s understandable.” Will’s friend sighed. He then refocused. “I hear you’re rounding up some maybe-villains.”  
Will’s smile was grim, his voice savage. “I certainly hope that’s what they are.” By his tone, Juan knew Will was itching to get his hands on those who had so damaged his friends.  
“Soo, if one of the two kidnappers is dead, and the other is on one of those ships, who do you think is on the other one?” Juan’s question had been asked in a casual manner, but Will wasn’t fooled for a second.  
“You tell me.” he deadpanned. “By now you would’ve gone over my report with a fine toothedfine-toothed comb and thoroughly dissected the scans we took of all the ships at the asteroid field. I’ve no doubt you know where all of those ships came from and who was aboard.”

“True enough.” Juan replied noncommitally. He knew there was no point in denying what Will had said. Will didn’t know exactly what his friend did in Starfleet, but he was aware that Juan was privy to things Will himself was not. And sometimes it was wise to not ask, at least not directly.  
“Captain Picard and I were discussing my mission and he mentioned a Tholian the Federation’s had problems with in the past.”  
When Juan said nothing, Will continued. “And that Tholian has, in the past, used some kind of broker ... someone to do his dirty work.” Juan maintained his silence, causing Will to scowl. “I think that Tholian is up to his old tricks and I think he’s using that same broker again.”

Juan’s expression became pensive. “And you think he’s on one of those ships you’ve been sent to investigate.”  
“Tell me I’m wrong.” Will stated flatly. There were ways of gaining information without asking direct questions.  
Juan offered a wry grunt. “And if I don’t?”  
Will’s broad shoulders shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough, but it’d be helpful if I knew. It’s gives me a nasty feeling when I go into iffy situations blind, especially if I find out later if I could’ve at least known I was heading into something dangerous.”  
Juan considered that for a second or two, and then sat back and studied his friend. Eventually he sighed. “In that case, make sure you’re locked, loaded, and ready, Will. I can’t say how your quarry will react to your presence, but I’d say it may well be that you’ll encounter aggression.”

Will grunted sourly, butsourly but inclined his head in a gesture of thanks. He then regarded Juan with a steady stare. “You know what’s been happening in the star system they’re in.”  
Juan simply nodded. Will stifled his irritation. “I guess it’s linked somehow with what happened to our people.”  
It wasn’t a question and it made Juan shake his head ruefully. “Will...” he muttered with mild exasperation, but then he sighed, defeated. “Look, you know I can’t go into details...”  
“I didn’t ask you to.” Will protested quietly. “In fact, I didn’t actually ask you anything.”  
“No, you didn’t.” Juan agreed coolly. He stared at Will while his mind wrestled with the desire to help his friend in direct contravention to strictures of his job. Eventually he arrived at a compromise. “Ok.” he began, his expression tight. “Your assumptions about the broker and who hires him are correct as is your connecting what happened to your people with what’s going on at present in that star system.”  
Will clenched his jaw tightly, holding it for a few seconds before making a concerted effort to relax. “My mission is to find out what those ships are doing there.” he said quietly. “But you already know that, just as you already knew what those ships were up to, but my orders are to take whatever action necessary to remove those ships.” When Juan said nothing, Will shoved himself back from the monitor and scowled. “How far do I go? Do I go after the Tholian as well? Can I do that?”  
“No.” Juan spat, his anger obvious. “As much as we’d love to be rid of him, we can’t risk upsetting the Hegemony.” He tossed a stylus he’d been fiddling with. It clattered on his desktop. “That’s if the Hegemony knows what’s going on.”  
“There’s no evidence?” Will said cautiously. “None?”

“Nothing conclusive and we can’t do anything unless we’ve got indisputable proof the Tholian is acting on behalf of his government. To do so would be to invite disaster. It’s no secret the Tholian Hegemony would jump at the chance to use even the slightest hint of umbrage from us to launch an offensive against us and we’re certainly in no shape to offer much resistance.”  
“Yet.” Will said defensively.  
“Yes, but until we’ve completed our rebuild, we just have to sit back and watch.”  
“That damned Dominion war...” Will shook his head. “The repercussions just keep on biting us on the ass.”  
“Indeed.” Juan sat up straight and, by his new demeanour, Will knew the conversation had reached its end. “Do what you can with those ships and those aboard, but unless the Tholian is there and makes an aggressive move, leave him alone. Don’t give him or his government any ammunition to use against us.”  
“Understood.” Will said crisply, but then softened his tone. “Thanks, Juan.”  
His friend’s expression changed from stern to warm. “Stay safe, Will. Jimenez out.”  
His image vanished and Will sat back, deep in thought.

Katya shoved her bag in the wardrobe before wandering out into the kitchen. The flat was bright and airy and, as it was situated in the upper levels of a tastefully designed multi-storey building, the view from her modest balcony was a lovely one.   
Having poured a cup of the perfectly brewed tea into a large mug, she added some milk, stirred it in, then made her way to the small table and two chairs waiting on the balcony. Moments later she sighed deeply as the tea worked its magic.   
After allowing a few silent moments, she fished out a personal recording device from her pants pocket and activated it. “So, I’m here.” She gazed out at the ocean view and smiled. “I fell on my feet with the accommodation. I’ve been given a twelfth floor flat with a lovely view in a fourteen storey building. It’s fairly new and came furnished. I have three days to myself, then I report for work.”  
Katya snorted and gave a shake of her head, muttering wryly, “Report? No, I’m not going to report in, I’m going to turn up.” She gave a decisive nod. “Yeah, turn up as head of my own department.”  
On her way back to Earth, Katya had gone through a terrible time, raging against what she saw as the injustice of the JAG not pursuing the charges against her former captain. But, as she fought her way through the anger, she realised she couldn’t take it any further. As much as she considered and desired to take civil action against the man, doing so would expose her to everything she hoped to avoid.  
There’d be no anonymity, no privacy and her family would know. In the wake of that realisation she had managed to give a lot of thought about her future. Now out of Starfleet, she felt she had skills to offer the private sector, but she had to decide whether to stick with ECD or warp dynamics.

She had laughed at the dichotomy, the two fields couldn’t be more unalike, but both had the potential for professional growth. It had taken a huge effort on her part to put her anger and feelings at being unable to see her former captain face court over what had happened aside, but she’d finally recognised that to hang onto those powerful emotions would eventually have a damaging effect on her.   
She would continue to isolate herself and, until she could completely distance herself from the devastation, she would have little to do with her family. They were still unaware of her return to Earth and Katya had no intention of changing that, at least not for a while. She loved her family, and she knew they loved her, but she needed time to heal, to put some space between her pain and her future.  
The recorder had gone into sleep mode, but Katya’s voice reactivated it. “I know my new employer has contacted Starfleet and that’s fair enough, in fact I’m glad, ‘cause I was told by the company CEO that it was on the basis of Starfleet’s glowing reference that I was hired. He told me they had initially doubted someone of my age could possess the kind of WD knowledge and skills as I’d laid out in my CV. Without the endorsement from Starfleet WD, I would’ve have landed this plum position as head of the WD department.” 

Her mind briefly dredged up the difficulty in choosing WD over ECD, but she was confident she’d made the right choice.  
Katya gave a satisfied sigh and closed her eyes. “Global Warp Technologies. The biggest and the best in the field, and well-heeled enough to supply great accommodation, rent free, for their employees.” A small chuckle emerged. “Why didn’t I do this a long time ago?” Her expression smoothed, and then a small frown creased her brow. “Yeah, but without my short-lived career in the ‘fleet, I’d not’ve had the credentials.” She sighed and shrugged. “Still, anything GWT comes up with will go to the ‘fleet, so I’ll still be doing my bit.”  
That seemed to placate any misgivings she may have harboured. She finished her tea and opened a channel to a local takeaway shop and ordered her dinner. It arrived some short time later, brought by a drone to her balcony. She was looking forward to starting this new phase of her life. If she could just get through her night’s sleep without the damned nightmares, she thought she’d be fine.

A memory was gnawing at Jean-Luc’s mind, causing his gut to sour. He was back on the shuttle being sexually abused by Twenth. Some of his memories weren’t there, the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of both Twenth and Lannit was too traumatic for him, but he clearly remembered one aspect of what Twenth had done on this occasion. He’d taken multiple ejaculates. Jean-Luc recalled Twenth holding up a container, a lascivious and terrifying grin on his face.  
Jean-Luc was aware of Will’s current mission, in fact he was aware of more than Will thought and it didn’t take much effort to put two and two together. The nightmare wasn’t over, not by a long shot. If he was right, and he fervently hoped he wasn’t, somehow that small container was now on one of the two ships and he felt confident he knew what was in store for the kidnapped females.   
Jean-Luc shuddered as he remembered how his pedigree had been such a selling point and how likely it was that any offspring of his would be advertised as carrying his more desirable traits. It made him feel physically ill to think of the consequences if the Tholian, and he was certain the alien was involved, succeeded in his plan.   
It had to stop before the scheme was put in motion. Given that the ships were still procuring breeding stock, Jean-Luc surmised the impregnations hadn’t begun. He certainly hoped so anyway, because if they had, things would become seriously complicated for him ... indeed, for everyone.

As far as he felt, the best-case scenario was to get the container and its contents, but if that wasn’t possible, then destroy the ship that had it.  
He was still wrestling with the problem when Beverly emerged from the bedroom. She peered sleepily at her husband, noting his preoccupation, despite her fuzziness. It sharpened her sensessenses, and she made her way to the sofa, taking a seat and frowning when he didn’t react to her presence. She quelled her initial irritation and made sure she was calm as she said quietly, “Hey.”  
Jean-Luc jumped as if hit with an electric shock. His eyes stared blankly before he regathered his shattered wits. “Beverly.” he stammered, reddening as his lapse exposed his scattered thoughts. He did his best to restore his equilibrium. “You’re...” he swallowed and took a deep breath. “You’re not supposed to be up.”

“Yet here I am.” Beverly replied quietly. She saw her husband’s dismay and summoned a small smile. “I’m ok.” She told him.  
He was unconvinced, but chose not to call her on it. Instead he asked, “You’re not in any pain?”  
“No.” she said the word gently. “I’ll have some sore muscles, but no, I’m ok.” Before he could ask any more questions, Beverly added, “The expulsion is complete. I just want to put the whole episode behind me.”  
Jean-Luc nodded, but he felt her declaration was premature. Fortunately, he didn’t voice that thought, especially using those particular words. Instead he gave a smile and a single nod. “I understand.” he replied softly.   
They sat in silence for several long minutes before Beverly said casually, “Deanna’s coming later today.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc responded cautiously. “You feel up to it?”

“Oh, yes.” Beverly sighed. “As I’ve said before, better sooner than later. The longer we leave it, the harder it’ll become.”  
Jean-Luc nodded silently. Though he understood what she was saying, the reality was he really didn’t want to open the papered-over wounds he bore. Beverly knew this, of course. She too dreaded reliving what they’d endured, but it was the only way to a future not sabotaged by their past.  
Beverly lifted her head and gave her husband a long, penetrating look. “What happened to you, Jean-Luc?”  
His artificial heart accelerated as his adrenal glands sent their hormones coursing through his body. He paled and swallowed reflexively. “Ah, what do you mean?” he asked weakly. “You know what happened, you were there.”  
The note of desperation in his voice wasn’t lost on Beverly. She shook her head and gave him another long look. “Yes,” she agreed. “I was there, but I wasn’t present when you were taken away ... or during those times after we were all taken to the shuttle. What happened? What did they do to you?”

“They gave me drugs!” he spat. “You know that.”  
“Yes,” Beverly agreed patiently. “I do know that, but what about when you were captured? And later, when we were on the shuttle and Twenth took you. What happened then?”  
Jean-Luc struggled to control his mounting panic. “Look,” he said, using his hands to offer a placatory gesture. “I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by rummaging around in those memories. Wouldn’t it be best to focus on the future?”  
“I see.” Beverly replied coolly. “So, are you saying that nothing happened?”  
The smile Jean-Luc raised was sickly and transparent. “Nothing of consequence.”  
Beverly sighed as her eyes hardened. “You know, at the very least a lie indicates a certain level of respect, Jean-Luc, and sometimes I’d rather be lied to than condescended to, but...” When he gave no indication he was listening, Beverly shook her head. “What you just did was so wrong. You say you want to go forward, yet you refuse to recognise the past. That’s very foolish and very hypocritical and, to be perfectly honest, completely unlike you.”  
Elly chose that moment to complain about her empty stomach. Jean-Luc immediately rose to his feet, taking his daughter’s hunger as a cue to leave the conversation. Beverly watched silently as her husband left the room, her eyes narrowing in thought. “I think I’ll give Deanna a head’s up.” She mused to herself.

Several hours later Deanna was seated on the sofa in the Picards’ quarters, silently considering how to begin the conversation. The children were at the crèche, leaving their parents sitting in sullen silence. Beverly had indeed contacted Deanna, informing her of the latest developments.  
The counsellor had been making and casting aside opening gambits ever since and getting nowhere fast. Her lingering lack of confidence threatened to surface, causing her to launch into the muddy waters of her friends’ physiological traumas head first.  
“Captain,” she said with sudden abruptness. “Tell me about the tattoo.”  
Jean-Luc was startled by the nature of the gentle, yet insistent demand. “What?” he snapped, his tone hard.  
Deanna refrained from letting her impatience show. She recognised it was more her feelings towards herself, rather than anything directed at her captain. “Your tattoo.” she replied calmly. “It was inked during your captivity, wasn’t it?”  
The man’s expression went from shocked anger to wariness. “Yes, it was, but why do you want me to talk about it?”  
A sigh escaped Deanna, but she covered it well. “It’s a small part of a bigger picture, Captain, but no more or less important than any other part. It has its place and I want to hear what your feelings about it are.”  
“I see.” he replied quietly, suddenly robbed of his angst by Deanna’s calm and reasoned reply. “Well...” he sighed and ran a hand over his pate. “It was done in stages. First the outline in black then gradually filled in and embellished with colour.”  
“And the design?”

Jean-Luc shrugged, but anger lingered in his eyes. “It was a so-called religious symbol. It was displayed throughout the facility I was...” he gestured to Beverly and amended, “We were kept in.”  
Deanna paused momentarily as she considered her next words. “But there seems to be a sexual component to the application of the design.” She said quietly. When Jean-Luc refused to respond, Deanna added, “It appears the inking of your genitalia was unnecessary. From what I’ve gleaned from your reports, Twenth seemed to derive sexual pleasure from inflicting pain to the intimate areas of your body.”  
“Yes, well,” Jean-Luc made a swiping movement of his hand, dismissing the observation. “That may well be the case, but what’s done is done.”  
“What did you think when you saw the same design on James?”  
Jean-Luc’s jaw dropped as he tried to cope with what the counsellor had asked. Deanna knew exactly what was happening and pressed on. “Did you wonder how he coped when the tattooing was done? How he coped with the pain?”  
Jean-Luc’s jaw clenched. “When I first saw him after the abductions, he appeared drugged.”

“I see, so are you suggesting he was unaware of what had happened to him?”  
“He wasn’t tattooed.” Beverly interjected quietly. “The design was painted on; it washed off once we got back to the Enterprise.”  
Deanna kept her gaze on her captain. “But you didn’t know that, did you?”  
He shook his head slowly. “Not then, no.” he said warily, still suspicious of the direction these questions were taking.  
“So, when you saw James, you must’ve been shocked to see the design, felt guilty perhaps for his being captured?”  
“Yes,” Jean-Luc agreed softly, “but I’d felt guilt from the outset. If I’d listened to Beverly...”

Deanna sensed Beverly’s impending interruption and held up a warning hand. “We’re not here to entertain self-recrimination, Captain.”  
“Then why ask about how much guilt I felt, how responsible I felt for what befell my family and Ensign Kurnov?”  
“Because it’s not about the guilt, Captain, it’s about context.” Deanna sighed and took a moment to reorder her thoughts. “What I’m trying to do is put things in perspective. Yes, in retrospect it would’ve been better if you had’ve acted on Beverly’s misgivings, but that doesn’t mean that your stance on defying the cult was a bad thing. Hindsight is 20/20 vision looking backwards, and rarely helpful, especially when it’s counterproductive. At the time you thought your stance was the correct one and the fact it was proved otherwise is irrelevant, because it wasn’t you who was responsible for what happened.”

This time Deanna allowed Beverly’s gentle comment. “That was 100% the kidnappers, Jean-Luc. They caused it, they planned it. What they did was set in motion a long time ago.” She sighed and rubbed her brow. “It’s likely we weren’t the specific targets, at least not initially, that came later due to simple dumb luck, but those two had been working up to something like this for a long time.”  
“So, you’re saying we were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?” His voice carried a note of incredulity.   
Beverly shrugged and pulled her lips down. “Pretty much, yes.”  
Deanna crossed her legs and sat back. “I think it’s worth noting that the Havenites were caught up in this in much the same way. The kidnappers chose Haven and it’s not hard to see why. The short step to what eventuated with you all was made easier by the complicity of a large percentage of the population. They are both innocent and guilty.”  
The counsellor waited a few moments for the man to process what she’d said before continuing. “The same kind of perspective can be afforded to what you were forced to do while under the influence of the drugs that were administered to you. You couldn’t stop what the kidnappers did to you and as a consequence, you had no control over what ensued as a result.”  
Tears welled in Jean-Luc’s eyes as he caught a glimmer of hope in his heart. He glanced at his wife to see she too was quietly weeping. Wishing to take advantage of the situation, Deanna turned her attention to her best friend.  
“And you, Beverly. How do you feel about your deceptive behaviour?”

Typically combative, Beverly snapped, “What deceptive behaviour?”  
Somehow Deanna refrained from rolling her eyes. “You lied to your husband, Beverly. You lied to him about your medical condition and you lied to him about seeking treatment on Haven, and you used Elly as an excuse to visit the resort doctor when the truth was you were seeking treatment for yourself.”   
Beverly’s mouth made an ‘O’ as she strove to deliver a response. Deanna dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “I’ve not raised this as any kind of admonishment, Beverly, there’s no guilt or blame implied here. My intent is to get you to change your perspective, much as I’ve just done with the captain.”

After some long minutes Beverly nodded. “So, you’re saying, you’re reminding me that at the time I told those lies I felt it was the right thing to do.”  
“Yes!” Deanna beamed. “And so, we can now put those events in their proper perspective.” Deanna sighed and gave a shake of her head. “I suppose it’s all about intent. What the captain intended with his resistance to the cult and your intent in lying to him about your medical condition. Although good intentions aren’t an excuse for bad behaviour, it must be acknowledged that in this case no bad outcomes were intended.”  
Beverly sighed and nodded. “And, by extension that the fault ... the blame for what happened to us must rest solely on the kidnappers.”  
“Yes.” Deanna smiled sadly. “Because they most certainly did intend harm. There was no ulterior motive for what they did, no altruism. They intended nothing but pain, anguish, and fear for their victims. And I suppose,” Deanna sighed and shook her head, “We must acknowledge their past victims, as well.”

“Indeed.” Jean-Luc muttered quietly. “There must be a very long list of victims who’ve fallen prey to those two.”  
“Oh, most certainly.” Deanna agreed. “But as deplorable as that is, it doesn’t detract in any way from what happened to you.” She gestured to Beverly to indicate she meant all those involved. “I only mention it to, once again, attempt to add perspective.” She then changed tack. “So, back to your tattoo.” She noted how her captain scowled darkly at the mention of his unwanted body art. “I take it you’d like to be rid of it?”  
“Yes!” he averred forcefully. “Absolutely.”  
Deanna turned to Beverly, an eyebrow raised in silent enquiry. The redhead gave a smile and a nod. “Easily done. Ten minutes work, tops.”  
“All right, and you, Beverly.” Deanna stared steadily at the doctor. “You’d like a clean bill of health? Your medical problems behind you?”  
“Of course!” she agreed firmly.

“Excellent.” Deanna smiled. “Then let’s make that our starting point. With the removal of the tattoo, and your complete recovery, we start a new journey, one devoted to truth, honesty and bravery.”  
The couple looked at each other and offered a tentative smile. “I’m game.” Beverly replied. That made her husband’s smile grow. “As am I.” he responded.  
Deanna gave a decisive nod. “Then let’s go to sickbay.” 

Rurke’s eyes narrowed and his brow descended giving his face a fierce appearance. Multicoloured light from the console patterned his face, adding a grotesque harlequin-like effect. The bridge of his ship was in darkness, the only other light coming from the surrounding monitors. Somehow the sombre tones suited his mood.  
“I see you, Lannit Yan, and I know what you’re thinking.” Rurke rumbled softly. He watched as Lannit bent forward, bringing his face closer to the screen he was watching. On that screen were images of his captives, held deep within his ship. Lannit’s hand drifted down to his groin and when he touched the area he yelped in pain, making Rurke smile grimly. “Yes, Lannit, you’ll experience that pain every time you try to pleasure yourself.”  
The broker glanced up and checked some scans. “Hmm, only four more to collect in this system. Let’s see if you obey your instructions.”  
Lannit, whose ardour had dissipated with the pain and memory of the reason he felt it, sneered and pushed himself away from the console. He was going to leap to his feet, but stopped just in time. Again, he recalled that making such a sudden move would cause further pain. Instead he rose slowly and gingerly, only standing completely upright with caution.

Having achieved that he ambled to another console and imputed some commands while saying tightly, “Computer, set course for new coordinates and proceed at ½ sub-light speed.”  
He ignored the chime of acceptance and glowered at the forward viewscreen. The vista changed as his ship turned lazily on its axis, and then moved off in a new direction. He expelled a frustrated breath. “I should’ve gone down, made the selections myself.” He grumbled sourly, and then leered evilly. “And tested the candidates for suitability.” He added. He was careful to avoid touching himself, but that only increased his anger and resentment.   
He spun around and shouted, “I know you’re lurking out there, Rurke, you bastard! You’re watching me, aren’t you? Just out of this garbage scow’s scanner’s range.” His tightly fisted hands raised and shook with fury. “You fucking coward, Rurke!”  
Lannit bared his teeth theatrically and made quite a show of demonstrating his anger, but the truth was he would never dare act like this if Rurke was there in person. It’s doubtful he’d even risk Rurke’s displeasure via remote means. Even a subspace connection with the broker was far too scary for Lannit Yan. 

The memories of the recent agony were too fresh in his mind. No, the real coward, of course, was Lannit Yan. His delusional thinking covered a very broad canvas though and in its sphere he was king. It was convenient, if not dangerous, but Lannit didn’t consider even the possibility that he might be wrong. It was everybody else’s fault, not his. Only he was right, only he was above reproach.  
“Ask anyone.” he laughed, but then smirked. “Not that I left any witnesses.” A demented laugh bubbled up in Lannit and his madness briefly surfaced. I’ll make you pay, Rurke. I’ll make you pay; I’ll make the employer pay ... I’ll make everyone pay!” He shook his head and stalked around his bridge. “And once I’ve found, then secured the employer’s wealth, I’ll be free to wreak whatever revenge I see fit. Then you’ll see, then you’ll all see!”  
Rurke shook his head slowly in sad wonderment. He’d encountered many individuals he considered insane and many of those beings had been fundamentally evil as well, but Lannit Yan was in a category all his own. Never before had Rurke found so many malignant traits in one being. He simply didn’t have any redeeming features. Not one. The broker sighed and felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing that Lannit’s eventual demise would actually be a beneficial thing for the cosmos at large. “Some beings,” he mused silently, “should never have been born.”

The computer on Rurke’s ship had been programmed to follow Lannit’s vessel, and it was with elegant gracefulness that the ship reoriented itself and took up its new course and speed. The viridian left the console and moved to the command seat. He knew it was only a matter of a few hours before they reached the destination, the final one.  
Having settled into the comfortable seat, Rurke was preparing to catch a little sleep when the calm quiet of the bridge was shattered but a soft, but insistent alarm. Rurke was on his feet immediately, alert, and ready for anything. Two quick steps had him at a console, scanning the rapidly scrolling text. What he read made his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. After only a few seconds of thought, he contacted his employer.

Will’s foot was braced on the ops pedestal, his elbow resting on his bent knee as he watched the monitor. Without breaking his concentration, he called over his shoulder, “Tactical, have they seen us?”  
There was a slight hesitation in the reply. “I think so, sir.”  
It was enough to make Will straighten and turn to face the cautious young officer. “You think so?” Will queried quietly, but with a warning edge to his voice. The young man took a deep breath and reordered his thoughts.   
“It looks like one of the two ships might be aware of our approach, sir,” he said with as much confidence as he could, “but I’m unsure exactly how they know.”  
The reply had caused Will to frown and he quickly moved to go and stand next to the officer at the tactical station. He curbed his irritation and made a concerted effort to keep his tone mild. “You’re going to have to explain that, Ensign.” he said.  
To initiate the reply, the officer gestured to his console. “Well, sir,” he began, “our computer’s picked up the rebound, at least that’s what it’s being identified as, of ... something...” he saw the anger growing in his acting captain’s eyes and hastened to clarify ... as best he could. “Sir, our computer doesn’t quite know what it’s detected, nor can it say whether it was a scanner, or long-range sensors.”  
Will took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Ok, I get that, we’ve been speculating that the alien technology might be better, or at the least very different from ours, so the confusion over what’s been detected is understandable, but you think only one of the two ships has noted our approach?”

“Yes, sir, and added to that, our computer has picked up what it thinks was an outbound communiqué.” The young man smiled coldly. “It happened just after we detected the rebound.”  
“So, we’re seen, and someone sends an alert?”  
The officer shrugged. “Possibly.”  
“But we don’t know which ship.”  
“No, sir. Something’s screwy, that’s for sure. We got the rebound and detected the outbound message, but as to which ship?” he sighed and shook his head. “Nada.”  
Will’s lips pursed in thought. “Nothing else about that message? What it was ... where it was going?”  
“Not the message content, sir, but it was sent, at least initially, in the direction of Breen space.”  
“Yeah,” Will grouched, “But it could be bounced numerous times in any direction.”

The officer remained silent, recognising the remark was rhetorical. Will lifted his head and said curtly, “Computer, is it likely we’ll discover the method of scanners, sensors or communications as we get nearer to the two targeted ships?”  
“It is possible,” the computer replied, “Although unless the technology is somewhat similar to what is already understood of the science behind these systems, it may not be possible to come to any meaningful conclusions.”  
“In other words, it might simply be too alien.” Will muttered in frustration. “All right.” he declared firmly. “Since we’re going in a little blind, let’s make sure we’re ready. Red alert! Shields up. Ready all weapons. Tactical, keep a close eye on those ships. Once we know which one sent the communiqué, odds on it’s the one that spotted us.”  
He gave a silent nod to the tactical officer and smiled coldly as he registered the orders to raise shields and bring all weapons online. He then turned and ordered the forward viewscreen activated and stared balefully at the growing dots of light that would soon emerge as his quarry.

Cold, dark, slanted eyes stared blankly at Rurke, making him briefly consider how many deaths his employer was responsible for. He knew he had killed at the being’s behest, but he’d always felt it was somehow deserved. Those deaths he’d caused that didn’t seem quite justifiable he refused to think about. That wasn’t his job.  
The employer sighed and then gave an irritated grunt. “As inconvenient as it is, we may have to dispose of Lannit Yan sooner than we thought.”  
Rurke hesitated before offering, “Shall I offload the breeding stock first?”

“Hmm, that does require some thought, Rurke.” The employer frowned then gave a curt shake of his large, triangular head. “If Lannit has chosen well and there’s no reason to think he hasn’t, then it would be a pity to lose the stock. He had some very specific parameters to adhere to and it might prove troublesome to reacquire the stock within such rigid physical boundaries.”  
“Indeed.” Rurke concurred respectfully. “And we must also acknowledge that the native populations of the worlds the stock came from would by now be well aware of the abductions.”  
The employer’s thin eyebrows rose, and his voice carried a sarcastic tone. “You aren’t suggesting they could do anything to stop us, are you Rurke?” He sneered, his small yellowed teeth showing. “We can take the stock from orbit! They’d have no idea what was happening.”

The inky black background behind the employer suddenly shifted somehow, as if something had passed in the darkness. Rurke concentrated on keeping his expression neutral. He’d never seen anything of his employer other than the image he was seeing now. In all the years he’d worked for the being, he’d only ever seen his face. Rurke had never tried to find where the being was, the viridian was wise enough to know that any attempt to trace, or indeed identify his employer would end his life.  
If the employer was aware of any kind of disturbance behind him, he ignored it. In the brief moment that this occurred, he’d given Rurke’s remark more thought. He sighed and offered a small shrug. “Perhaps you have a point, though.” he grumbled. “I suppose, should the population groups begin to crowd together in some kind of feeble attempt at protection, it could make our efforts to get the exact items somewhat complicated.”  
“Yes, and make the people generally more wary and that in turn could make any future procurements that much more difficult.” Rurke said quietly.  
The employer’s expression became shockingly cold. “If not for the fact that the Federation would stick its nose in, I’d take what I want, then eliminate most of what’s left.” He growled. It took a moment or two for him to refocus. “So,” he said crisply, having put aside his anger. “A Starfleet vessel is approaching.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“And have you identified it?”

Rurke glanced at his console. “Just now, sir, as we’ve been speaking.”  
When the employer said nothing, Rurke offered a small bow of his head and answered the unspoken question. “It’s the Enterprise, sir.”  
The information made the employer lift his head and give a small gasp. He then shook his head, a wry smile contorting his features. “Ah, Rurke, sometimes the inevitability of fate astonishes me.” he sighed deeply. “The chaos, the very randomness of the universe is completely belied by instances of coincidence.”  
Rurke said nothing. He was shocked; he’d never seen his employer so animated. He’d certainly never considered the being would either be capable of such amused whimsy or indeed, even if he were, that he would show it. It vanished as quickly as it had’d emerged.  
“Comply.”

Rurke frowned and tilted his head, unsure as to precisely what his response should be. The employer saw the broker’s difficulty and elaborated. “No doubt they’ve been sent by some bored, deskbound bureaucrat who thinks they have some kind of right to act as law enforcement out here in free space, however, at this point I’d rather avoid any confrontation, there’ll be ample time for that later ... once I get some interested parties involved.” The employer smiled unpleasantly. “So, should you be ordered to stop, do so. Comply.”  
Rurke nodded, feeling relieved that he had clear orders. “And Lannit?”  
“Let him run with the stock, we can get to him easily enough and it’ll keep the Enterprise from chasing him if they’re busy being oh so righteous with you.”  
“Of course, sir.” Rurke allowed a small smile. “And if I may ask, how compliant should I be? To what extent should I take my meekness?”  
The being grunted and smiled coldly. He then peered at Rurke, his expression difficult to describe. “Meekness?” he uttered quietly. “Not a description I’d ever have thought could be used for you.” He then shrugged, quickly growing tired of the exchange. “Use your discretion, Rurke, just bear in mind we don’t want to ruffle their feathers just yet.”   
“Understood, sir.” Rurke took a breath, intending to add one more thing, but the screen went blank. The conversation was over. The broker glanced over at the stasis unit that held Jean-Luc’s semen and frowned. “And what am I supposed to do about that?” he asked himself, but he already knew the answer. “Use my discretion.” He grunted sourly and shook his head. “And that means keep its existence a secret and guard it with your life.”

A gently strobing red light made Rurke smile, and when a hail was received, he opened a channel to the approaching starship. “This is the Ram, why are you requesting I stop?”  
On the Enterprise, Will’s eyes narrowed. “I’m acting Captain William Riker of the starship Enterprise. I have some questions for you.”  
Rurke smiled to himself, settling into a verbal joust. “Then ask them, I don’t have to heave to just so you can interrogate me.”   
Will smiled grimly, recognising the ploy. “I didn’t ask you to heave to, I asked you to come to a stop.”  
“Semantics, and I still don’t see why I have to do that.” Rurke almost chuckled. “I’m not doing anything wrong, I’m just making my way through space, as is my right.”  
“This area of space is not open to unauthorised passage.” Will replied coolly.  
“Really?” Rurke responded. “And who says that?”

“The Federation Council.”  
“Ah!” Rurke exclaimed triumphantly. “Then that’s even more reason I don’t have to bring my ship to a halt. This isn’t Federation space and I’m not a Federation citizen, so your laws, your edicts, don’t apply.”  
Will sighed, suddenly tiring of the pointless posturing. “Bring your ship to a stop, or I’ll disable it.” He made sure the channel was open so the alien could hear him say, “Tactical, target that ship’s engines with full phasers, and load a quantum torpedo, then hold for my orders.”  
The broker was sure to make his voice sound panicked as she shouted, “Oh, hey ... there’s no need for that! I’m stopping!”  
Will watched as the small, elegant ship came to a halt. He turned and speared the tactical officer with a sharp look, while making a cutting gesture across his throat, closing the channel to the ship. “What’s the other ship doing, the one that’s ignored our hails?”  
The young man was about to answer, but then had to quickly alter his reply. “It just jumped to warp, sir. It’s ... wow ... it’s really hightailing it out of this system!”  
“Dammit!” Will muttered. “Okay, watch it as long as you can. Once we deal with this clown, we’ll see if we can extrapolate a course and round it up.”  
“Aye, sir.”

Rurke closed his channel to Lannit, smiling as he did. He’d just sent Lannit’s ship a covert alert that had the ship’s computer accelerate to maximum warp, and then to execute a predetermined set of course changes. If he stayed on his vessel, Rurke would meet him in four days’ time in a completely different star system; one Starfleet would never dare enter.   
Of course, Lannit Yan, being who and what he was may well take the opportunity to make a bid for freedom. Rurke hoped he did, it would provide even more reason to kill him as slowly as possible. His cargo, however, had to be retrieved and kept untouched by Lannit’s body parts and that made the coming interaction with the Enterprise very important.  
It had to be handled with extreme mental dexterity. Rurke knew the commander he was about to engage with was no fool, and he also was fully aware of the Federation’s motives for policing the area of space he was in, so he had to balance his need to leave as quickly as he could with the need to avoid arousing suspicion. Rurke enjoyed challenges and composed himself accordingly. Will’s voice came over the speakers. “I would like to interact visually.”  
“Yes, of course.” The broker hid a smile as the feigned timidity showed in his voice.

As soon as Will saw the being he was talking to, his wariness increased. It wasn’t just that the voice and tone didn’t match the well-built, stocky being, but the body language he saw, the stance, the squared shoulders and steady gaze, these things were very hard to hide, especially when it was an obviously natural state. What Will saw was a being well used to being in charge, in total control.  
“Your ship is called Ram?” Will smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Interesting name. And what’s yours?”  
The broker knew immediately that Will wasn’t fooled by his act. He gave a mental shrug and pushed the ploy aside. “Rurke.”  
Will waited a beat and when nothing more was said, he raised his eyebrows. “Rurke? That’s it, just Rurke?”  
“What more is there?” The broker replied. “You asked me my name, and I gave it.”

“Yes, I did, didn’t I.” Will nodded. “Your ship is called Ram and you’re called Rurke. So, Rurke, what are you doing here, in this system?”  
The smile that crept across the alien’s face irritated Will, but he didn’t let it show. “I don’t think I have to answer that, Acting Captain William Riker.”  
“You can think that if you want, but the reality is you do.” Will was about to say more when the channel was abruptly closed. He spun around and raised an annoyed eyebrow at the tactical officer. He quickly explained, “Sir, the computer’s just figured out a few things, including how to do a deeper scan of that ship. We’ve picked up something very odd and I think you should see it.”  
In a few long strides, Will was standing beside the young officer, a worried frown on his face. “What the hell is that?”  
The officer shrugged. “Not sure, Captain, but it’s definitely of human origin.”  
“But it’s so small ... what the hell could it be? Some tissue perhaps? A digit maybe ... a toe or a finger?”  
“A trophy?” The young female on the con said tremulously. As Will returned to the command chair, he slapped his communicator. “Riker to Doctor Picard.”  
“Picard here, go ahead.”

“Can you take a look at something for me please, Doctor? I’m sending an image down to your quarters.”  
“Will do. Picard out.”  
Will then returned his attention to tactical. “Does the ship have any significant weaponry?”  
“It certainly does, sir. That ship may be small, at least by comparison to us, but it’s armed to the teeth. It’s got some heavy-duty firepower and strong shields.” The officer grimaced; he knew what his commander wanted to know. “Ultimately, we out-gun them, sir, but that ship is far more manoeuvrable than us. It’d be crucial for us to land the first blows in any fight with it, otherwise we’d be in a hell of a stoush, one we might not win, sir.”  
A defiant scowl marred Will’s face. He turned back to the screen and nodded to indicate the channel to be reopened. Rurke’s eyebrows rose and he made sure Will saw his displeasure at being cut off. The big acting captain gave a cool smile. “Apologies, Rurke.” He offered nothing by way of an explanation. Rurke smiled inwardly, feeling grudging admiration for the human. “What are you doing in this system?” Will asked quietly.   
Rurke shrugged. “I told you, just passing through.”

As Will and Rurke butted heads, down in the Picard quarters, Beverly frowned at the image on her monitor. Jean-Luc, looking over her shoulder, had paled and was on the verge of vomiting, sweat beginning to bead his forehead. She was about to turn and ask him something, but he was already on the move.   
She spun her head around, only to just see him exiting their quarters. “What the hell?” she murmured as she rose to her feet. She slapped her comm badge, saying tightly, “Doctor Picard to Captain Picard.”  
There was no reply, so she repeated the call and added, “Respond, please!”  
The voice that replied was ragged. “Picard here. Beverly ... I ... I have to...”  
The link closed, leaving a very worried Beverly to refocus her attention on the image her monitor was displaying. “What is that and why did it upset Jean-Luc so much?” 

Will was standing, feet braced apart, and his arms folded across his broad chest. “You and I both know that’s a blatant lie, Rurke.”  
The broker tried to look offended, but fell well short. Instead he shrugged and gave a dismissive flip of his hand. “It matters not, Captain Riker. My reasons for being here are not your concern and if this little interrogation is over, I’ll be on my way.”  
“I don’t think so.” Will’s tone was mild, but his expression was flinty. He was about to add more, when he heard the aft turbolift doors open. Jean-Luc stepped onto the bridge and Will only had to glance at him to see that there was something very wrong.   
Will made the cutting gesture again and moved towards his captain, saying as he did, “Tactical I want you to watch that ship like a hawk. Any movement, any attempt to leave before I say they can, you take out their engines with our phasers.”  
“Aye, Captain.”

Will, on joining the older man, pointed to the ready room doors, one eyebrow raised in question. Jean-Luc nodded and together they entered.  
They had only just seated themselves on the sofa when the overhead speakers came to life. “Picard to Riker.” Jean-Luc shook his head, letting Will know he didn’t want his wife to know he was there. Will replied, making sure his voice was even. “Riker here, Beverly, go ahead.”  
“Will, without getting a better scan of the substance in the image, all I can tell you is that’s it’s biological and definitely human. By its size and density, I doubt it’s a body part, such as a digit, or even a piece of flesh or bone. That narrows it down, but not to any great degree. It could be a sample of brain tissue...congealed blood ... in fact it could be any type of bodily fluid.”  
As Will watched his CO, he saw the older man’s eyes briefly close. “Ok, Beverly, if I get anything more, such as a better scan, I’ll let you know. Riker out.”  
There was a brief moment when Will was tempted to put his arm around his friend, but just as quickly dismissed the thought. No doubt his captain wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. He waited, unsure how to handle the situation. He needn’t have worried; Jean-Luc began to speak, haltingly at first, then with more confidence. “Will,” he said quietly, “I have to get aboard that ship.”  
Somewhat taken aback, Will chose his words carefully; knowing his captain and friend wouldn’t make such a statement lightly. But even though his trust in the man was implicit, the all-too-recent traumas he and his family had suffered caused him to be cautious in his approach.

“I see.” Will said quietly. “May I ask why, Captain?”  
Jean-Luc looked into the younger man’s eyes and Will almost gasped at seeing such tormented anguish in them. “Isn’t it enough that I say it?” he sighed raggedly. “Can’t you just accept it without knowing why?”  
The acting captain gave that some thought then said, “Normally, yes, it would be enough, but this isn’t a normal situation.” He got up and began to pace. “You’re aware of my mission?”  
Jean-Luc nodded, but said nothing.   
“So, you know that I’ve been tasked to find out what those ships are doing here, and to destroy them if I can’t get a legitimate reason for their presence or make them leave if they refuse to do so?”  
Again, Jean-Luc nodded silently.

“Then you know that it’s likely, in the event I get no real cooperation, that I might send an away team.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc replied quietly, making Will grunt softly. “But letting you go?” Will shook his head. “I don’t think I can allow that, Captain.” He stopped his pacing and faced the seated man. “Firstly, it’s against SOP, and secondly, you’re still relieved of duty, sir. Really, if you can’t give me a compelling reason to ignore standard operational procedures, then my hands are tied.” He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Captain.”  
“Will,” Jean-Luc’s voice broke and he paused to clear his throat and regather his thoughts. “Will, I need to get on that ship, but I can’t tell you why ... it’s personal. But I ask you to trust me. You know I’d never do anything to endanger this ship or her crew.”  
“Of course, I know that.” Will sighed. “I’m not worried about that, Captain. What I’m worried about is you endangering yourself.”  
An uncomfortable silence dragged on until Will spoke again. “You say it’s personal.” He studied his friend, seeing the toll the recent events had taken. Jean-Luc had lost weight, his skin was pale and papery and his eyes haunted and underscored with dark smudges. “It’s to do with the image I sent Beverly, isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jean-Luc wasn’t going to acknowledge it anyway. He looked up and sent an uncompromising look. “Do you trust me?” he asked with quiet intensity. Will’s reply was one of the hardest things he’d ever said.  
“Yes, Captain, I do. I’d trust you with my life, but I still can’t authorise you to go aboard that ship.” He sighed and gestured with his hands. “Not unless you give me a compelling reason.”  
Jean-Luc wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and rant, but instead he lowered his head and placed his tightly clenched fists at his temples. Somehow, he mustered his voice for one last try. “Will, please...”  
The big man swallowed the lump in his throat and murmured, “No, Captain, I’m sorry, but no.”  
Jean-Luc rose abruptly and left. Will went to the now empty sofa and sat heavily. “Fuck!” he spat hotly. “What the hell do I do now?”  
The call from the bridge was unwanted. “Captain Riker?” The tactical officer’s voice carried his hesitation. “Sir, the target ship’s commander is hailing us. He’s not happy, sir.”  
Will exited the ready room, sending a curt nod towards the officer. He understood and reopened the channel. “Apologies again, Rurke.” Will said crisply. Before any reply came, he hurried on. “You say you’re going to continue on your way. Just what is your destination?”

A clearly annoyed Rurke glared hotly, barely containing his urge to raise his voice. “You have no authority to ask me these questions, Captain. I’m not in Federation space.”  
Will shrugged and pulled his mouth down. “That may be so, but if you won’t answer my questions, I’ll have to take punitive actions.”  
“Punitive actions?” Rurke said incredulously. “Surely you jest, Captain?” His momentary amusement vanished. “I’m leaving; I’ve wasted enough time talking to you.”  
Will spun around and said curtly, “Shields up! Fire phasers!”

Two bright orange beams shot out of the Enterprise’s forward array and impacted on the other ship’s engines. It was an area that was well shielded, but the power of the blasts still caused considerable damage.  
The answering fire was instant and powerful. The Enterprise rocked under the multiple blasts as Will ordered the ship to execute evasive manoeuvrers. “Keep targeting with phasers, concentrate on engines and weapons!”  
Again, the great ship shuddered under the onslaught, but she landed some telling blows of her own. Rurke’s ship was moving, but sluggishly, and its shields were weakening. The tactical officer said asked loudly, “Torpedoes, Captain?”  
“Photon only, but wait for my order.” Will replied grimly. “I’m not going to destroy that damned ship without getting some answers first.”  
Jean-Luc was in an empty observation lounge, using his rank to allow him to watch the battle. He was near a small, little-used transporter room and was waiting for a very specific set of circumstances. It came more rapidly than he thought it would. He heard the tactical officer say tightly, “Their shields are down, Captain!” 

Hefting a phaser in his hand, Jean-Luc quickly left the observation room and strode purposefully into the transporter room. Using all of his considerable authority, he glanced at the young male manning the station and said coolly, “You’re relieved, Ensign.”  
The shocked officer gaped a little, startled at seeing his captain and far too intimidated to question his order. To his credit he did hesitate, but only briefly before capitulating and abruptly leaving, muttering quietly, “Yes, sir.” As he did.  
Within scant moments Jean-Luc had entered the necessary commands and mounted the transporter pad. He dematerialised seconds later. 

Rurke spun around, a weapon in his hand. He’d expected to be boarded and the characteristic wine of a transporter beam alerted him to the incoming intruders. He was shocked when he saw who it was, but true to form, he recovered quickly. With his weapon aimed, as soon as Jean-Luc rematerialised fully he said flatly, “I didn’t expect to see you.”  
Jean-Luc’s hand tightened on his phaser, but he didn’t raise it. “Didn’t you?” he asked coldly.   
Rurke shrugged and then offered a small, wry smile. “Now that you ask, I suppose it’s not surprising you’re here.”  
Time was his enemy, so Jean-Luc dispensed with any further chit chat. “Where is it?”

Time was on Rurke’s mind too. He knew more of the Enterprise crew would arrive imminently and Lannit Yan’s ship was getting further and further away. His own ship was currently unable to move or defend itself, so he had to buy some time, yet do so while still on board. To that end he decided it was best to humour the human standing before him, and use him as a hostage later.  
“I take it you’re referring to the container of your ... reproductive fluid?”   
Jean-Luc was both pleased and amazed. He thought this alien being would plead ignorance. “Yes.” he said warily. “I know it’s here, on this ship.”  
The broker had already moved it to a more secure location. He offered a nod and gestured to a lift. “If you’ll accompany me?” He lowered his weapon and moved to a lift. Jean-Luc followed, but kept his phaser gripped tightly, though still not raised. Once inside the lift he kept a distance in the small compartment, standing to one side and slightly behind the alien. 

The lift travelled only a short distance, perhaps two or three decks before the doors opened and the broker exited. He stepped into a brightly lit corridor and walked to the first set of doors he came to. Again, he gestured, and Jean-Luc followed.  
Meanwhile a boarding party of five security officers had materialised on the bridge. The leader, a female Bolian lieutenant, reported to Will. “We’re on the bridge, Captain. It’s deserted.”  
On getting information from the tactical officer, a very angry Will relayed, “There are now two individuals on the ship, and one is Captain Picard. They’re three decks below you. Apprehend both and bring them back!”  
The room was small, and contained several obviously secure lockers. The one on the far left was also shielded and showed the bright blue light of a stasis field. “It’s in there.” Rurke informed Jean-Luc in a matter-of-fact tone. He made no move to un-shield the locker, or remove the stasis field. Jean-Luc gestured with the phaser. “Open it and give the contents to me.”

“There’s not much point in doing that, Captain Picard.”  
“Why?” Jean-Luc growled. “It belongs to me, it was stolen from me.”  
“I don’t dispute that, Captain, but it’s required by someone else ... and besides, that individual has both the power and the means to take more from you if he has to. So why put yourself ... and him ... through that?”  
“Open the fucking locker!” Jean-Luc shouted.   
Rurke shrugged and complied. On seeing the small container and its contents, a small whimper escaped Jean-Luc’s lips. Rurke watched the man carefully, feeling a small amount of pity. Jean-Luc reached forward with a trembling hand as he said brokenly, “I know who you are ... you’re working with Lannit Yan and Twenth. You...”  
“No.” Rurke interrupted quietly, yet firmly. “I am certainly not working with or for either of those two. Quite the opposite.”  
Running footsteps could be heard approaching as Rurke raised his phaser. “I’m afraid I’ve lied to you, Captain Picard. I can’t allow you to take that.” He pointed at the container, but before he could close the locker, Jean-Luc fired his phaser. The container and its contents were instantly vaporised. 

Rurke was forced to make his move. He’d been surprised when Jean-Luc destroyed the container; he’d assumed the man had simply wanted to regain ownership of it. With that out of the equation, Rurke’s strategy was suddenly simplified. When the Enterprise’s security team entered the room, Rurke’s arm was around Jean-Luc’s neck, his weapon aimed at the man’s head.  
“I take it you will listen carefully to me?” Rurke said calmly. The security team leader nodded silently. “Good.” Rurke tightened his arm around Jean-Luc’s neck, making the man gasp for breath. “Now, if you want your captain to live, you will do as you’re told.” Rurke nodded towards the still-open door. “You will move aside and give me clear and unimpeded passage.”  
The tall, wiry team leader shook her head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.” she said with assured calm. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at Rurke and he sighed as he realised the female wasn’t going to compromise.  
Rurke returned her stare with his own version. “Then you are placing your captain in danger, because I won’t hesitate to kill him if I have to.”

His eyes narrowed on seeing a small, cold smile appear on the female’s face. “I doubt you’ll do that.” she remarked quietly. “Captain Picard is far too valuable to you. My guess is you’ll do anything and everything you can to preserve his life.” She shrugged and raised her phaser, aiming it at Rurke’s head. “I’ve no idea why our captain is so important to you, and I don’t particularly care. I do, however, care about the fact that we don’t do deals with terrorists.”  
That made Rurke snort derisively. “Terrorist? You think I’m a terrorist?” He barked a bitter laugh. “I was minding my own business, happily wandering through this system when I was accosted by your ship! If anyone’s a terrorist, it’s you!”  
Before the team leader could do anything, Rurke suddenly pushed Jean-Luc forward, but still gripped the back of his shirt tightly. The five officers that comprised the team tried to move as one, but due to the confines of the small room, all they managed to do was hamper each other’s movements. Rurke took advantage immediately. He let go of his captive’s shirt and shoved Jean-Luc violently, and in the ensuing confusion, he then dived low through the legs of the team and, once out in the corridor, rolled to his feet and ran.

The team leader quickly extricated herself and set off in pursuit, followed by three more team members. She called over her shoulder, “Haskins, take the captain back to the ship!”  
Rurke made it to the lift, entered then spoke to the computer. “Escape strategy alpha!” he snarled. “Initiate onboard hostiles protocol one.”  
The lift reached its destination and just as he exited, all power shut down, ship-wide. Plunged into complete darkness, Rurke used his species’ excellent night vision to easily navigate his way to a room on the starboard side of his ship. In it was an exceedingly small personal spacecraft. He climbed into it and powered it up, and then enabled a specific and dedicated link to his ship’s computer. He watched through the tiny, domed canopy of his craft as the room’s blast doors opened.  
With a simple press of a button, the tiny vessel left the ship and shimmered briefly before vanishing. The tactical officer on the Enterprise had only enough time to call, “Captain! Something small has just launched from the other ship…” He then shook his head in bewilderment. “Wait … it’s gone.”

Will spun around and barked curtly, “What do you mean, gone?”  
“Just that, sir. It was there, our sensors picked it up as soon as it left the ship, but then it simply disappeared.”  
Will turned and glowered at Rurke’s ship. “Did it jump to warp?” he asked.  
“No, sir, I don’t think so. I think maybe it used some kind of cloaking device, but it’s not one our computer’s familiar with.”  
“Scan for tachyon particles.” While the officer carried out his orders, Will lifted his head and called, “Riker to away team.”  
He knew immediately that the team leader was very annoyed. “Yoong here, Captain.” she said abruptly, only just keeping her tone acceptably respectful.  
“Report, Lieutenant.”

Her reluctance to offer her report was clear in her voice. “Captain, I’m sorry, sir, but we’re … trapped.”  
“Trapped?” Will snapped, his gut tightening. “Explain.”  
“Me, Carlew, Bosk and Jameel are in a lift, but the power’s out, sir. We’ve tried to open the escape hatch, but it’s been locked somehow. We were just discussing using phasers, but…”  
“Don’t.” Will said curtly. “There may be booby traps rigged to respond to phaser fire, even at low level.”  
“That was our concern too, Captain.”

Will turned and spoke to tactical. “Can we beam them out?”  
The young man shook his head. “No, sir, there’s some kind of scattering field in place. Hell knows where the power’s coming from to operate it though.”  
The big acting captain shook his head with annoyance. “Did you find Captain Picard?” Will asked the team leader, almost dreading the answer.  
“Yes, sir. I had ordered Haskins to take him back to the ship, but I doubt he managed that before the power went out.”  
“Ok.” Will accepted the report and allowed a moment or two to think. “I don’t want to establish a power transfer from the Enterprise until we’ve made sure there’re no nasty surprises lurking, so instead I’ll send some engineers, see if they can restore power. In the meantime, sit tight.”  
“Aye, Captain, Yoong out.”  
Will took a deep breath and contacted Haskins. The male answered promptly. “Haskins here, sir.”  
“Ensign, do you have Captain Picard with you?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“And is he, all right?”  
“Yes, sir, he is.”

“Good. Give the captain your comm badge, and then move away so he has some privacy.”  
The reply was slightly muffled as Haskins acknowledged his orders and carried them out. The next voice Will heard was Jean-Luc’s. “Picard here.”  
“Are you aware of the situation, Captain?” Will was angry and, although he tried to keep it from his voice, it still bled through.   
“All I know is that there seems to no power here. The other team members were in pursuit of the alien captain, but I’m unaware of their status.”  
A frustrated sigh escaped Will’s mouth. “The team is trapped in a lift, Captain, and our sensors registered a small craft leaving that ship, but it cloaked, and we lost it. We can’t scan for you, nor can we beam you back at the moment. I suggest you and Haskins stay where you are until we can get to you.”  
“Understood, Picard out.”  
Jean-Luc knew he was in for an extremely uncomfortable time with Will once he returned. He sighed, but then smiled grimly. He wasn’t going to divulge why he’d boarded the ship, but he was savagely satisfied that he had. Destroying that which had been stolen from him via a brutal and sustained sexual assault had given him back some sense of empowerment. He clung to that, holding that feeling close and nurturing it. He knew in time to come, he would need it.

Rurke held the hypospray in his hand as he allowed a moment or two to go over the details of his plan. The drug would render him deeply unconscious, so profoundly asleep that he wouldn’t register as a life form on any scanner. The onboard computer was preset to execute the little craft’s flight plan. It would be eighteen days before the drug would release its hold of him.  
He hoped, if Lannit had obeyed his instructions, to meet with the being to continue their tasks. If, after regaining consciousness, Lannit’s ship was nowhere to be found, then Rurke would have no option but to contact his employer. He fervently hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. Not only would it be unprofessional, but his pride would be dented and that was totally unacceptable. As unpalatable as it was, everything hinged on Lannit Yan.  
After giving a slight shake of his head and a small shrug, Rurke placed the hypospray nozzle on his thigh. “Time will tell.” he muttered as he depressed the trigger. He never heard the completion of the hiss as his eyes abruptly closed.

Beverly was jigging a fractious Elly on her hip as she dealt with the tail end of James’s tantrum. “I’ll get you some warm milk, James, then maybe you might like to have a little nap?”  
James took a shuddering breath and nodded as he slipped two fingers into his mouth. “’K.” was all he said. He had been fine, playing quietly while Beverly fed Elly, but when he asked where his father was, he dissolved into tears when Beverly explained that he was off the ship.  
James’s tears quickly grew into unreasonable anger, exhibited by yelling, stamping his feet and the throwing of toys. That behaviour and a tired Beverly’s accompanying and rising tension upset Elly and she began to wail. For ten chaotic minutes Beverly weathered the storm, but all too soon, her fragile patience reached its end.  
“James!” she shouted hotly. “Stop it!”  
The little boy was shocked into silence. His parents rarely raised their voices. Even Elly was momentarily silenced. Beverly took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “James,” she continued in a much quieter, gentle tone, “It doesn’t help to behave like that, it just makes everyone upset and sad.”

“I want papa.” James said in a small voice.  
“I know you do, sweetheart.” Beverly replied sympathetically. “I’d like to see him too.”  
Elly began to fuss again, so Beverly went and sat on the sofa to see if she could continue her breast feed. She patted the seat beside her and smiled warmly as James accepted her invitation and snuggled into her side. When the door chimes sounded, she briefly considered ignoring it, but she guessed who the caller was and bowed to the inevitable.  
“Come in, Dee.” She called resignedly.  
Deanna took in the scene before her, fully aware of the undercurrent of tension and dismay. It was the escalation of these emotions that she’d sensed that had brought her to her friend’s quarters. She seated herself in Jean-Luc’s chair and watched in silence as Beverly dealt with Elly’s reluctance to feed.

Knowing Deanna was silently observing irritated the red head, but her stubborn feistiness made it almost impossible to admit she needed help. However, she was no fool and after taking a deep breath or two, she eventually lifted her eyes to the petite woman seated in front of her and summoned a wry smile. “You want to say something?” Beverly queried in a slightly sarcastic, challenging tone.  
“Do I?” Deanna’s obsidian eyes held a trace of amusement, but it was tempered by compassion.  
Beverly’s eyes glittered angrily, but she controlled herself. “Yes, I think you do.”  
“I see.” Deanna said with quiet calm. “So, what is it you think I want to say?”

As Beverly redirected her heated gaze to her daughter, she muttered through gritted teeth, “Probably something about trying to relax … that my tension and anger aren’t helping … that Elly is unsettled and won’t feed until I can calm myself…” She looked up, tilted her head, speared Deanna with an intense glare and then asked waspishly, “How’d I do?”  
Deanna countered Beverly’s anger with equanimity. It further irritated the doctor, but that reaction was inevitable. “Right on all counts.” Deanna replied quietly. “But as it’s obvious you know what to do, I have to ask why aren’t you doing those things?”  
“Because!” Beverly spat, then glowered at her friend as her outburst caused Elly to squirm and wail again. Deanna said nothing, but her raised eyebrows made Beverly swear under her breath. She felt she was being judged. Things weren’t helped when James remarked innocently, “Maman, why are you making Elly yell?”  
Beverly had to force herself to breathe evenly to gain some control. Everything was piling up and she was finding it increasingly difficult to cope. “I don’t mean to upset Elly, James.”  
“Then why are you doing it?”

Deanna chose that moment to step in. “James,” she said gently. “Your maman is very tired and Elly kind of knows how she feels and that upsets her. What we need to do, so that Elly can be happy, is to help your maman as much as we can.” She smiled at the little boy and sent a playful wink. “So, I’m going to talk with maman, and while I do that, do you think you can play with Elly?”  
James gave his sister a dubious look and shrugged. “She’s a baby.” he muttered, unconvinced. “She can’t play blocks or spaceships or do painting.”  
“No.” Deanna agreed with a smile. “Elly can’t do those things yet, but she could lie on her rug beside you and watch as you play. And that would mean you’d be watching her too, and that is an especially important and immensely helpful thing to do.”  
The lad sat up and lifted his chin. “I can do that.” he declared proudly.

“That’s wonderful.” Deanna beamed. “Come on, you get the rug and I’ll take Elly.” Beverly watched in grateful silence as Deanna quickly sorted the children out. Fortunately, Elly found the distraction entertaining enough to stop crying.   
Having rejoined Beverly, Deanna sent her a sympathetic smile. “It becomes a bit much sometimes, doesn’t it?”  
Beverly nodded her reply. She couldn’t speak, tears were threatening, and she was angry because she didn’t think she could stop them. Anger seemed to be all she could feel, lately. Deanna knew of course and said quietly, “Let them come, Beverly, let them come.”  
The softly spoken words settled over Beverly like a comforting blanket. She lowered her head to meet her hands as they covered her face. While Beverly’s shoulders trembled, Deanna moved to sit beside her and wrap her arms around her in a warm, supportive embrace. It was many minutes before Beverly was able to take a shuddering breath and lift her head.  
“I’m so torn.” Beverly murmured shakily. “I want Jean-Luc here, I need him … yet I don’t want him here.” she sighed sadly. “Sometimes, when I look at him…” Beverly’s lower lip began to tremble and she shook her head, unable to complete the thought. She tried to deny her feelings. 

Deanna understood and finished the sentence. “He frightens you.”  
Beverly nodded, her expression stricken as fresh tears fell. Deanna sighed and took Beverly’s hands in hers. “Your reaction is perfectly understandable, Beverly. You can’t expect to recover quickly from such a traumatic series of events, nor should you.” Deanna considered her next words carefully. “And neither can the captain. In his own way he’s just as traumatised as you.”  
Beverly nodded, saying quietly, “I know that, Deanna, of course, I know that, but I can’t help but resent his absence.” She sighed deeply and added. “In some ways I think Katya had the right idea.”  
She was surprised by the seemingly contradictory statement. When nothing further was added, Deanna gently encouraged more. “Go on.”  
Using her hands to try and elaborate, an exasperated Beverly tried to explain. “Leaving.” She shook her head. “I mean, she’s out of it now … she’s gone to somewhere far away to lick her wounds and heal.” Beverly’s expression hardened. “By herself, no longer a spectacle … or an object of pity … or worse.”

An alarmed frown crinkled Deanna’s brow. “Is that what you think you are? A spectacle, an object of pity?”  
Once again angry, Beverly stood abruptly; however, on seeing the movement had caught James’s attention, she sent him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and retook her seat. After a moment or two to re-gather her thoughts, Beverly tried to explain herself, while maintaining control of her emotions. Not an easy task.  
“I know most, if not all of the crew, feel very badly about what happened to us…” She saw Deanna was about to interrupt and held up a hand to forestall her. “No, don’t, Deanna, don’t try and tell me that it’s not common knowledge by now, we both know that’s not true.” 

Taking a deep breath, Beverly pressed on. “And being aware that they know is terrible. I can’t look at people … I can’t make eye contact with them … I feel like they’re wondering … speculating…” With a shake of her head, Beverly’s voice hardened. “And the dropping of any criminal charges against Jean-Luc didn’t help.”  
Beverly hurried to clarify, “Not that I think Jean-Luc should’ve been charged, I know he wasn’t responsible for what happened, but the story’s out there now…” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “And I’ve no doubt it’s been well-embroidered … the more salaciously the better. So yes, I do feel like I am … we are spectacles and objects of pity as well as objects of curiosity and, maybe, hatred.”  
Beverly sighed and brushed away an errant tear. “Katya Kurnov had friends, Deanna, people who cared about her and were perhaps shocked and angered by her sudden departure and then disappearance. Now that the story’s doing the rounds, those same friends might not feel too kindly towards us.”

Deanna took a moment to consider what Beverly had said. “I can see how the captain might be the target of ill-feeling by some, but why you?” Deanna felt she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear what Beverly’s thoughts were.  
Beverly’s expression was a sad one. “Because she was my choice for a helper. Jean-Luc was at all the interviews and he agreed with me as to her suitability for the job, but he deferred to me.”  
“Well, by that logic, if it wasn’t Katya it would’ve been someone else.” Deanna’s tone was hard, and it made Beverly send a surprised look. Deanna didn’t give her time to respond. “Look, what happened was going to happen and it’s pointless to speculate with ‘what ifs’. As I’ve already told you, the only direction you need to focus on is forwards, not backwards.”  
Deanna made a decisive cutting motion with her hand. “And as for anyone else and what they think? Fuck ‘em!” Beverly gaped at that. “If people want to dwell in the seedier areas of their brains, that’s their problem. There’s an old saying… ‘When they go low, you go high.’”

Long moments passed before a small smile crept onto Beverly’s face. She offered a gentle snort. “I don’t think you got that exactly right, but I get the gist.”  
“Good.” Deanna smiled. “No go and finish Elly’s feed.”

“Finally!” Jean-Luc thought angrily to himself. He stepped off the transporter pad and took three steps before he hesitated. The silent scrutiny of the young officer manning the transporter console made Jean-Luc suddenly aware that he had to be careful about his next move. “I need to think.” he thought warily.  
His feet carried him from the room, with nary a hitch. Once in the corridor he examined his options. While still on Rurke’s ship he’d fumed, chafed at the inactivity forced upon him, but the truth was he didn’t quite know what to do. Once he was back aboard the Enterprise, he knew he’d be expected to simply return to his quarters, but that was the last thing he wanted to do.   
Yet he didn’t want to hurt his wife. He’d already hurt her far too much, both psychologically and physically. “No.” he thought decisively as he strode down the corridor. “I need to get this right … I need to minimise the damage…”  
Once he came to the junction of three corridors, he took the left option, heading for a turbo lift. “Time,” he thought, “for some lateral thinking.” 

Lannit Yan simply couldn’t believe his luck, and the fact that what occurred was so propitious was why he began to suspect it was some kind of trick … or a trap.  
“Rurke, you fucker!” he muttered sourly as he prowled around the small bridge. “You’re setting me up for something, aren’t you?” Lannit’s hands flexed as he made tight fists, released them and then did it again. “You’re betting I’ll take the females and run.” The alien stopped pacing and cocked his head as a sudden thought struck him. “But when this bucket took off you were butting your ugly head with the Federation scum. If I did run, how would you know where I went?”  
An oily smile spread across Lannit’s pinched face. “The computer on this ship is compromised; the fact it took control and sent me to who-knows-the-fuck-where, is proof enough of that.” Lannit’s eyes slid over the surrounding monitors, suspicion clear in his expression. “Well, I’m no slouch where it comes to computers.” 

He strode quickly to the lift and descended into the bowels of the ship. In mere minutes he was in the modest computer core. He didn’t emerge for over five hours and he was utterly exhausted when he did, but the sneering smile on his face told its own story. He now had complete control of his ship.  
Before he allowed himself to rest, Lannit imputed a new course and waited to see his orders obeyed. As his ship executed a wide arcing turn and settled on its new course and speed, Lannit went to the holding cell. For now, he could only leer and create fantasies as the terrified females cowered. But soon his disfigurement would be repaired and his ability to indulge in sex would be restored and then … he sighed and licked his lips lasciviously. “And then…” The words emerged only as a whisper, but the females heard them, and some began to weep.

Will smiled warmly at investigator Vurenn. She looked rested and had obvious taken time with her appearance. She returned his smile and held up one hand. “I can’t chat, Captain Riker, as much as I’d like to.”  
“That’s fine.” Will replied amiably. “So, what can I do for you?”  
“I just wanted to pass something on. We’re beginning to wind up our end of the murder investigations and Starfleet’s been informed that, should Lannit Yan be apprehended, we would like to extradite him back here.” By the serious cast her expression had taken, Will felt there was more. He was right.

“That’s the official line, but unofficially we don’t want him. The upheaval he and Twenth caused … and what happened to us as a people as a result, has caused us a great deal of pain, it’s a wound that will take an awfully long time to heal. Reopening it by dragging it into the spotlight though trials etc., would help no one.”  
“I understand, Investigator.”  
“There are some uplifting instances amongst the dross, though.”  
Will’s eyebrows rose. “Such as?”  
“Such as clear evidence of heroism and courage from some of our citizenry. I particularly want to mention Ehanne Hu. He was the doctor at the resort your people were staying at. We have information that shows he did whatever he could to help your people. He died as a result, murdered, we believe, by Twenth.”  
Will’s face fell and he lowered his head as a mark of respect. “I’m sorry to hear that, Investigator Vurenn.” he said quietly.  
The female sighed. “Yes,” she agreed softly. “At the time of his murder he was working towards locating the children and getting everyone out.”  
“I’ll let the Picards know.”

“Thank you.” Will thought she would end the call, but he saw her hesitate. “There was another in the party, wasn’t there?”  
“Yes.” Will sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Katya Kurnov. She recently resigned from Starfleet and left the ship. We don’t know where she is now.”  
“That’s unfortunate.” Vurenn sighed. “Well, in the unlikely event there’re any trials held here over what happened I suppose we’ll try and find her, but I don’t think we’d try too hard. All of the victims have suffered enough.”  
“Agreed.”  
Will and Vurenn said their goodbyes and the call ended. The acting captain sat back and let out a long breath. He suddenly felt very tired.

Katya gritted her teeth and then offered a perfunctory smile. It didn’t reach her eyes and the man on the receiving end frowned as he tried to work out what he’d done to upset his new colleague. They had been studying an analysis of a new warp system when he’d casually asked if she like to have a coffee later.   
She’d seemed relaxed, she was certainly engrossed in the work, but as soon as the invitation was offered it was as if she’d thrown up a shield made of ice. He almost stepped back in shock. “Hey,” he said, somewhat offended by her attitude. “it’s just coffee, I didn’t ask you on a date or anything.”  
“I’m aware of that.” Katya snapped coldly, but relented a little on seeing the hurt in the man’s eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, Tom, I’ve…” she took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now…” She gave a helpless flip of her hand. “It’s nothing personal.”  
“Ok.” Tom said with a shrug, but offered a smile to show he accepted her excuse. “No harm done, I’ll survive.”  
Across the room a female fellow worker watched the exchange with growing curiosity. “Interesting.” she thought, a calculating smile emerging. “Might be worth my while to place a call or two.”

On seeing the look of determination on Deanna’s face and the way she strode purposefully along the corridor, crewmembers quickly got out of her way. She passed them rapidly, leaving little but a shift of air and the hint of her perfume trailing behind.   
Just as Deanna was leaving Beverly, she sensed her captain’s presence. She felt his indecision and then his resolve to sequester himself somewhere private while he worked out a way to deflect her and avoid his wife. This behaviour was so typical of him, it infuriated her.  
His reaction was predictable, so much so that Deanna had been actively anticipating it as soon as she sensed his arrival back on board. Well, it was time he faced up to embracing his therapy and stopped doing everything he could to sabotage it. He said the words he thought she wanted to hear, but Deanna seriously doubted he ever had any intention of actually doing what he said he would. 

“Perhaps,” she thought grudgingly, “perhaps he meant it when he said it, but then reverted back to his go-to, fall-back strategies as a way of hiding from what’s happened.”  
A soft grunt emerged as she approached his hideaway. “No more, captain, no more. Time for some tough love.”  
Deanna breezed into the dimly lit room, startling the man inside. He half rose from his seat, then changed his mind and sat. “I’d like some privacy, Counsellor.” His expression was closed and said the words quietly, but with an unmistakable hint of iciness.  
Deanna straightened and lifted her chin defiantly. “Too bad.” she said firmly. She saw the shock on her captain’s face and how his expression quickly changed to anger.   
“I beg your pardon?” he said tersely, yet with deceptive softness.

“I said, too bad.” Deanna repeated coolly. “You keep doing this, Captain, running from me, running from what you have to do in order to heal.” She took a deep breath and continued, knowing she was deliberately provoking the man. “And it’s odd, this behaviour of yours. In almost any other situation you’re so courageous, so damned heroic, but when it comes to personal issues, you’re such a fucking coward.”  
“What?” Jean-Luc was so outraged he could barely speak. “How dare you!”  
Deanna offered a casual shrug. “How dare I?” she shrugged again. “I suppose I dare because I care about you … and I care about Beverly and your children. Do you care, Captain? Do you care about your wife and children?”   
Jean-Luc’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Stop this, Counsellor, you’re going too far.” he said this softly, a sure sign of growing fury.  
“Really?” Deanna countered bravely. “I would’ve thought I’d not gone far enough. Certainly, I should’ve said these things a lot sooner, maybe then you wouldn’t be so inclined to wallow in self pity and indulge in self-flagellation.”  
“Shut your damned mouth!” Jean-Luc seethed. “You have no right to…”

“I have every right!” Deanna shouted. “I am your counsellor and I’m your long-standing friend and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you slide into mental oblivion, your marriage on the rocks and your children estranged! Because that’s what’s going to happened if you don’t grow a pair and do what you have to so you can heal!”  
Jean-Luc slowly rose to his feet, his body rigid with tension. Deanna momentarily thought he was going to attack her, but, as she watched carefully, he began to stalk around the room and as he did, his anger eased. Eventually, haltingly, he began to speak. “You’re right, Deanna, I don’t want to face it. Despite the fact that I say I’ll try, deeper inside me I know I’m not going to.”  
“Fear can be crippling.” Deanna remarked quietly. 

The words halted Jean-Luc feet and he sent her a reproachful look. “It is, but the hard part is admitting it’s fear in the first place.” He sighed raggedly. “It’s so easy to give it more acceptable labels, so easy to convince yourself that you’re doing it for someone else’s benefit … that you’re somehow protecting someone else.” he grunted sourly. “Complete and utter bullshit, of course.” he sighed and added softly, “How easy it is to delude oneself.”  
“Most people find a way to justify their actions, Captain, and it doesn’t matter whether it’s for a good motive or a bad one. Ultimately everyone has to live with their choices.”  
“Huh.” Jean-Luc snorted. He began to pace again, and a long silence ensued. Deanna was content to allow it; she knew he was thinking hard. Her patience was rewarded when he said, “I don’t want to think about it, Deanna … I keep coming back to the same thing.” he sighed and wiped his eyes with his fingers. “How many years will it take me to forget how to remember?”  
Deanna’s head bowed as a sad smile emerged. “Trust you to put it like that.” She shook her head. “Memories soften with time, Captain; you know that, and that same length of time can help dull pain. You know from past traumas that there are ways to learn how to cope, ways to lessen the impact of your memories.” Deanna stood and went to the viewport, smiling to herself when he came to stand beside her. “It’s starting the process that’s the hardest part.” she said quietly. “But once begun, it does become easier.”

“With time.” Jean-Luc sighed, his eyes tracking the stars as they slid by in elongated, prismatic brilliance. “I suppose it’s a way to stave off ending up on the scrap heap, cast adrift with the homeless and the helpless.”  
“How dramatic.” Deanna observed dryly, a hint of humour in her voice. Jean-Luc responded with a snort and a shake of his head.   
“I suppose I should go and face the music?” he asked rhetorically.   
“In stereo.” she amended, and then added, “I’m coming with you.”  
“Probably a good idea, you can be a witness at the trial over my murder.”  
That dragged a wry chuckle from Deanna. “Beverly won’t murder you, Captain, but by the same token, don’t expect to come away completely unscathed.”  
“A sound observation, Counsellor. Very well,” he sighed theatrically. “Lead on.”

When Deanna and Jean-Luc entered his quarters, he was momentarily relieved to find the living area devoid of his wife. With the ship’s day watch still in progress, Jean-Luc initially assumed Beverly and the children were elsewhere, that was until he heard the soft sounds of his daughter waking up. Deanna, knowing Beverly and the children were in the master bedroom, smiled inwardly as she sensed first her captain’s relief, quickly followed by his dismay as he realised he’d been mistaken in thinking he could put off the coming unpleasantness.  
He sighed and sent Deanna a slightly annoyed look. “You might’ve warned me.” he grouched quietly. “At least it would’ve helped me to prepare me.”  
Deanna replied with a shrug and said, “You feel you have to prepare to face your wife?”  
Jean-Luc rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically. “Please, Counsellor. You know what I mean.”  
“I do,” Deanna relented, but then added, “it wouldn’t’ve achieved anything though, Captain. In fact, you feeling such relief when you thought Beverly wasn’t here should tell you a great deal about your attitude at present. It’s only been 15 minutes since we discussed this very thing and here you are, already slipping back into denial, your tried-and-true deflections.”  
His expression showed his anger, but it quickly changed to embarrassment. “Gods.” he murmured softly. “I’m such a fool.”  
“No, not a fool.” Deanna sighed and gently squeezed his upper arm. “Stubborn, perhaps, defiant, perhaps, but certainly no fool.” She gently urged him forward. “Go, Captain. Take the first steps towards healing.”  
Jean-Luc stared briefly at the doors to his bedroom before taking a deep breath. He took a few steps, but hesitated. Deanna’s soft voice came from behind him. He didn’t turn. “I’ll wait out here, minding the children. Call me if I’m required, but I will want to speak to both of you once the air’s been cleared.”  
“Understood.”

On achieving control over the ship’s computer, Lannit Yan wasted no time in altering his course. As the ship streaked off on its new heading, and at maximum speed, Lannit poured over the navigation console, devising a course that would eventually get him to his desired destination, but with the least chance of being captured. He was under no illusions; the spectre of Rurke lurked in every one of Lannit’s thoughts. Before Lannit did anything further, be it his much anticipated sexual games with his captives, or his pursuit of the source of the employer’s wealth, uppermost in his mind was the restoration of his sexual organs. Until that was achieved, everything else was secondary.  
Lannit Yan loved his cock; it was the source of not only his pleasure, but also his status. In his mind his entire being was centred around his masculinity and to him, that meant his preferred genitalia. Nothing else. His maleness wasn’t derived in any way philosophically, it wasn’t about how to be male. No, to Lannit Yan it was all about his cock … and what he liked to do with it. Thinking about what he wanted to do to his victims inevitably caused an instant erection. And that only ever caused others pain. He had always considered that proof enough that for him, there were no other aspects to his masculinity. Put simply, nothing else mattered.  
He knew the restoration was going to be difficult, extraordinarily complex, and because he would accept nothing but perfection, he knew he desperately needed an expert … and a significant amount of latinum. Fortunately, he was able to come up with both. He smiled as he weighed his options.

He knew of five specialists who were capable of the kind of intricate work required to rebuild his prized genitals. That suited his plans perfectly. He would contact all five and make appointments. When Rurke came searching, as Lannit knew he would, precious time would be lost going from one facility, one planet, one system to the next. Of course there was always a chance Rurke may be lucky and choose the one that Lannit was actually attending, but the sly being felt confident that outlaying a suitably large amount of latinum should allow for a warning to be given.   
The task itself would require time, and that was a concern, because during the actual surgery he would be helpless and then there would be the recuperation time. At that Lannit grinned lasciviously, already imagining how delighted he was going to be to use his newly reconstructed cock. He could already hear his victims screaming.  
His hand drifted to his groin and his grin was immediately replaced with a grimace of pain. “Rurke, you fucker!” he growled as the agony spread out from the ruins of his cock.  
He calmed himself with difficulty and spent some time considering how to protect himself while the surgery was done. Nothing came to mind, so he cast aside the fruitless thoughts and concentrated on laying his course. It ended up a very intricate procedure. It had to be to confound Rurke. Lannit needed time and he was determined to get it.

Several days had passed. Will was on his way to the Picards’ quarters. It was something he’d intended to do days earlier, but on hearing Deanna’s advice to leave the family alone, he’d agreed. Now, armed with his lover’s permission, he strode from the lift, wondering what kind of reception he was going to get.  
The calm, almost friendly call for him to enter gave him encouragement that things were on the improve for his friends. This was bolstered by James’s ecstatic greeting. “Uncle Will!” the young lad yelled, rising quickly from his toys on the rug and hurtling across the room. He leaped and fortunately Will was ready, catching the boy and hoisting him up high.  
“Hello, James.” Will chuckled, and then frowned as the sound of Elly’s crying became evident. James suddenly realised his noise had startled his little sister and his happy expression fled. Will lowered him as the chastened lad looked over at his parents, mumbling, “Sorry.”

Jean-Luc was frowning as he picked his daughter up, gently shushing her. He said nothing though, knowing James was feeling bad enough. Beverly stood as Will and James approached and then she ruffled her son’s hair. “Try to remember, James.”  
“I will.” he nodded.  
Will gave James’s shoulder a pat, then pointed to the sofa, his eyebrows raised in question. Beverly deferred to her husband and he checked with her. They both smiled as they reached the same decision.  
“Of course, Will.” Jean-Luc said quietly. Beverly wandered over to the replicator, saying over her shoulder, “Can I get you anything, Will?”  
“Yes, please. Coffee, milk, with double sweetener.”  
While Beverly busied herself, Jean-Luc amused the now happy Elly. “So, Will, how’s my ship?”

It was so good to hear his captain ask something so familiar. The big man grinned and gave his report. He then sobered and updated his CO on the current mission. “So, we’re still in the dark about the alien’s actual purpose. As you know there were initially two ships, but one hightailed it out of the system while we were dealing with the viridian.”  
“A ploy, no doubt.” Jean-Luc muttered wryly.  
“Yep, that’s my guess as well.” Will agreed, his expression showing his irritation. “And now that same viridian has vanished in some kind of escape pod and we’ve been left sitting here with egg on our faces.” Will offered a slight grimace. “Our only consolation is that he left his ship behind, although it’s sealed itself and not only can’t we get back on board, but it’s resisting all our efforts to lock onto it. We can’t tow it, scan it or interact with it in any way.”  
“Hmm.” Jean-Luc’s reply was noncommittal. Will shifted uncomfortably and searched for a way to ask his next question without upsetting his captain unduly.  
“Sir,” he began cautiously. “Do you know who he was?”

Jean-Luc’s first instinct was to deny any knowledge of the alien, but Deanna’s insistence on truth overcame that. He would tell Will all he knew, except the part about what the being had possession of. That was something he wasn’t willing to share with anybody.  
“He was a broker, Will.” Jean-Luc said it quietly, his expression bland, though his pain was clearly evident in his eyes. Beverly quietly joined the men and placed three mugs on the low table. She glanced over at James to ensure he was occupied with his toys and sighed.  
“From what Jean-Luc’s told me,” she said in a soft voice, “the viridian was working for one of the prospective buyers ... we don’t know which one, but his job was to secure the desired lot ... or lots. Us.”  
On seeing Will’s slightly confused look, Jean-Luc clarified. “Apparently we, that is all of us, Katya Kurnov included, could be purchased separately or in any combination thereof, including as a package deal.”   
“And the price would be adjusted accordingly.” Beverly added, her disgust clear.  
“The broker’s job was to get the desired lot at the best price.” Jean-Luc shook his head and Will momentarily wondered what, exactly, the older man was reacting to. Was it anger? Outrage? Disbelief? Sorrow? Or perhaps all of those things ... and more. Will didn’t know and would probably never ask.

“Ok.” Will nodded and clasped his hands between his knees. “So why did you board his ship, Captain? If he was a broker, then he was working for someone else. Surely you’d be more interested in finding out who that person was?”  
Anger flashed in Jean-Luc’s eyes, but he quickly quelled it as he searched for an acceptable answer. Beverly was watching him intently. Will’s question was one she’d been wanting to ask herself.  
“Precisely, yes.” he replied confidently. “I wanted to question him; I wanted to find out who had hired him.” Jean-Luc’s voice was steady, there was no trace of hesitation, no hint that he was lying and in Jean-Luc’s mind he wasn’t. He had intended to interrogate the broker, but only after he’d destroyed what had been stolen from him.  
Will gave a slow nod, but frowned as he considered the reply. “Yes, I can see that, Captain.” He offered a small smile of apology as he then asked, “But our intention was to do just that, sir. We were about to bring him here, to the Enterprise, to question him. That was our mission, after all.”  
Jean-Luc paled slightly, and his eyes grew dark. “That may be so, Commander, but considering what had happened to us, I felt justified in taking the initiative.”  
Will’s expression hardened. “Against my explicit orders not to.”

Beverly could see this was going to escalate into something heated and angry, something both men would later regret. She held up a hand before her husband could respond. “Look,” she said with quiet calm, unusual for her. “what’s done is done. I’m sure Jean-Luc is sorry for undermining your authority, Will, but surely you can accept that in the wake of what happened ... and bearing in mind the residual effects of post-traumatic stress, his actions...” she sent Jean-Luc a tender look, “can be overlooked?”  
Will took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then let it out slowly. “It’s not just a matter of me overlooking anything, Beverly. The viridian escaped. An argument could be made that if the captain hadn’t interfered, that might not’ve occurred. And we wouldn’t be sitting here, red-faced and waiting for all those awkward questions that are going to come from Command asking why, amongst other things, was the sole individual who could answer our questions and therefore the crux of our mission be allowed to slip through our fingers?” Will gave a soft grunt. “How do I overlook that?”  
“You don’t.” Jean-Luc said quietly. “I’m not going to shirk my responsibilities, Will. I’ll tell them it was my fault; I never intended to do otherwise.”  
Beverly gave her husband an understanding look and sighed. “There are mitigating factors.”

Jean-Luc shrugged and rubbed his face with one hand. Will watched the dynamic and decided to let it go. “Who knew?” he thought silently. “Perhaps Command will just put it down to shitty luck and move on.” He decided to change tack completely. “I was contacted by a Havenite police officer a few days ago. She told me something I think I should pass on.”  
The couple glanced at each other, a strange mix of worry, and fear, and dread skittering across their faces. Will was saddened to see it. He wondered if they would ever be able to hear anything about Haven without feeling so traumatised. It was Jean-Luc who gave the wary nod for Will to continue.

“I was told by Investigator Vurenn that your resort doctor, Ehanne Hu, was found dead in the complex you were held captive in. Apparently, he had been murdered by Twenth. The investigator wanted me to know that the doctor’s courage in his efforts to help you have been noted and he will be formally recognised for his heroism.”  
“Oh.” Beverly sighed sadly. “Poor Doctor Hu. He did help, he helped a great deal.”  
“I’m not so sure he helped me.” The words had left Jean-Luc’s mouth before he could stop them. He bowed his head in embarrassment and shame. “I’m sorry.” he murmured quietly. “I didn’t mean that ... he did help me, but he was also responsible for my state ... when I...” he flapped his hand helplessly, regret and anguish robbing him of further speech.  
“He had no choice.” Beverly said, shaking her head. “Just like us, he was given no alternative. It was either do as he was told or suffer the consequences.” She sighed with sadness. “And we now know that’s exactly what happened. He was murdered for trying to help.”

“From what I was told it seems he was trying to find James and Elly, in preparation for liberating all of you.” Will said gently.  
“Yes.” Beverly said, wiping away some tears. “He was going to try and get all of us out.”  
There was a protracted silence before Jean-Luc murmured, “It’s fitting that he’s going to be recognised for his bravery.”  
Beverly and Will nodded silently. The sombre mood was broken when James called. “Maman? I’m hungry!”  
Jean-Luc rose and gave his sleepy daughter to her mother. Plastering a smile on his face, he gestured for James to join him at the dining table. “What would you like, James?”  
The boy grinned as he crowed. “Sausages, hot chips and tomato sauce.”  
“Predictable, but acceptable.” Jean-Luc grinned at the boy, delighting him.   
Will left soon after to resume the Enterprise’s efforts to try and learn the secrets of the broker’s ship

Rurke gritted his teeth as he went through a specific and extensive stretching routine, which was difficult as he was still confined inside his tiny escape pod. The three weeks of his deeply unconscious state had stiffened his muscles. On waking he had ingested a liquid that would help restore his body’s various systems, but age was slowly catching up with him. Where once he would’ve recovered very quickly, now he had to almost nurse his protesting body back into some semblance of working order. It annoyed him, but he sighed in resignation. The slow march of time took its inevitable toll. The atrophy of age undeniable and inevitable.

Once he felt he’d reached an acceptable level of recovery, he concentrated on the heads upheads-up display in his tiny craft. “So, Lannit Yan. Are you where you’re supposed to be?”  
Scant moments later an angry, and yet philosophical Rurke sighed and shook his head. “You disappoint me, Lannit, but I’m not surprised.” His eyes narrowed and he brought up a deviously unique subsystem on his computer. “I had briefly speculated whether or not I’d have to use this, Lannit,.” A cold smile spread across his face. “and yet here I am, happy that I’ve pre-empted you ... again. You are so depressingly predictable.”  
It took the onboard computer a few minutes to access the desired information, but the sudden appearance of a pulsing blue light on a miniscule star chart made Rurke’s thin eyebrows rise. They rose further as the specific location information was displayed. “Well, I have to hand it to you, Lannit. You’re a lot further away that I thought you’d be.” The smile faded and Rurke’s eyes glittered dangerously. “But your location at that facility was precisely the kind of place I thought you’d be use.” The broker stretched again, grimacing as he tried to ease a persistently knotted muscle in his back. “So now, in order to round you up, I need my ship.”

He smiled wistfully as he tabbed a control, idly amusing himself as he imagined the human acting captain’s face when his prize vanished before his eyes. It was enough to force a soft chuckle from the viridian.   
“Oh, Acting Captain Riker. I do wish I could see your disbelief ... your astonishment.” He chuckled quietly again, and then sighed. “You’ll eventually realise you’ve bitten off far more than you could ever chew.” His expression grew sombre. “I only hope you realise that in time. I liked you, Riker. I don’t particularly want to kill you ... but I will if it’s required. Ultimately, we all do our master’s bidding, one way or another.”  
Rurke moved again and sighed resignedly as the troublesome muscle refused to unknot. He briefly considered putting himself into the deep coma again, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. Instead he imputed some commands and watched the star field change as his little craft executed a rapid turn and increased speed. He would shorten his wait by meeting his ship. Once back on board he would formulate his strategy. Catching Lannit Yan wasn’t going to all that easy. Nor was the coming call to his employer.

Jean-Luc was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He and Beverly were having a joint counselling session and Deanna’s questions had begun to stray into areas he simply didn’t want to talk about. And to make matters worse, his wife had been making her own, albeit gentle, enquiries into the same subjects. He sighed inwardly, sourly musing that it seemed like the two women were deliberately conspiring against him. His irritation grew as Deanna correctly identified the cause of his dark emotions.  
Having sent Beverly a look of caution, Deanna watched the man for a few seconds before saying quietly, “You know Beverly’s very worried about you.”  
Still somewhat angry, Jean-Luc offered little but a diffident shrug with one shoulder. Deanna wasn’t put off though. His next defence irritated her, yet she remained calm, giving no hint of her inner feelings. The cause of her angst was Jean-Luc’s near complete suppression of his emotions. She sighed and allowed a slight shake of her head.

“There’s no point in doing that, Captain. Ultimately you will tire, and once your exhaustion makes your mental barriers fall, your emotions will be again laid bare.”  
Anger welled up in the man, but Deanna was both grateful and impressed as he let the emotion go. He sighed deeply as his shoulders fell.   
“I sense how you’re feeling, Captain,” she said gently, “but I would appreciate it if you’d to tell me what you’re feeling.”   
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I feel...” he sighed as he again strove for calm. “I feel angry.” The words emerged in a curt bark, but then were followed by a softer, “And somewhat frustrated.”  
“And why are you feeling those things?”

“I would’ve thought that was obvious.” Jean-Luc muttered sarcastically, his eyes glittering. When Deanna didn’t respond he gave an irritated flip of his hand. “I’m angry that you’re badgering me with questions I feel aren’t relevant, and I’m frustrated that you and Beverly appear to have united against me.”  
Deanna sensed Beverly’s immediate outrage over the allegation and hastened to ensure she remained silent. The red head’s struggle to comply was obvious, yet somehow, she controlled herself and obeyed.   
“You’re angry because you think my questions are irrelevant and you’re frustrated because you think Beverly and I are uniting against you.” Deanna repeated, careful to keep her tone even.   
On hearing his words said back to him, Jean-Luc flushed with embarrassment. “All right,” he said quietly, “I realise how querulous and petty that sounded. But it’s hard to not feel like I’m being asked to do more that I think I should.”  
His explanation made Deanna frown. “More than what? More than whom?”  
He flapped a hand in Beverly’s direction by way of reply and said nothing. Beverly was becoming so incensed it was difficult for her to sit still. Deanna made a placatory gesture to her than redirected her attention to her captain.  
“Are you saying that you think I’m making this process of recovery harder for you? That Beverly’s receiving some kind of special treatment?”   
“It certainly seems so, yes.”

Beverly had heard enough. She shot to her feet and stood rigidly, her hands tightly fisted by her sides. Deanna was just about to ask her to sit down when the doctor abruptly left the quarters. Both Jean-Luc and Deanna recognised the action for what it was. Instead of an angry outburst, which would’ve most likely derailed the session and possibly set the process back significantly, Beverly had chosen to absent herself. The gesture was appreciated, but for different reasons by the remaining pair. Deanna shook her head as she sensed the man’s relief.  
“You’ve gained nothing.” she sighed in exasperation. “You know Beverly won’t let it go ... at some point she’s going to take you to task for what you’ve been saying ... the unfounded allegations you’ve been making.”  
Once again, Jean-Luc felt embarrassed over what he’d felt ... for what he thought he’d achieved. He was compelled to try to mitigate his actions. “It wasn’t my intention to goad her into leaving, Counsellor.”  
“Then what was your intention, Captain?” Deanna gave him a long, hard look. “You said you feel like Beverly and I were uniting against you. Do you really think that? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” Before he could answer, Deanna continued. “Unless there was a clear indication that such a strategy was productive, I would never indulge in such destructive and unprofessional behaviour. I’m here to help, Captain, to - help both of you.” She gave a soft snort. “And as for your intentions, I think it’s perfectly clear what they were. You knew what the outcome of your allegations would be, and you deliberately used them to cause Beverly to leave, and in doing so, relieved the pressure you felt building. Pressure caused by me asking questions you were finding increasingly upsetting.”

“I see no reason why you would ask me...”  
He got no further. “You see no reason?” Deanna snapped, then immediately calmed herself. “Captain,” she began in a much more reasonable tone. “let me ask you this. Given that the entire episode was one in which you were all involved, wouldn’t you agree that there are significant differences between the experiences you all endured?”  
“Yes.” he replied warily.  
“Then don’t you think my questions to you ... how I approach my therapy with you, would need to differ from my approach with Beverly?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged, trying to convey a disinterested air, but inside he was panicking. He scrambled to come up with an equally blasé reply. “This was a joint therapy session.” he said dryly. “I’d’ve thought the amount of discomfort would be equally distributed.”  
Deanna couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly. Even considering what her patient was going through, what he’d just said was preposterous. “Equally distributed?” she almost gaped.   
But then she realised what was happening. “That’s not going to work.” she smiled sadly. “Top marks for the attempt, though ... that was a masterstroke of misdirection.” She watched as Jean-Luc shifted uncomfortably. “It’s backfired rather spectacularly, however.” Her smile became conciliatory. “You’ve just showed me that my questions have to be answered. The very fact you’ve gone to such lengths to try and prevent me from finding the answers is all the proof I need that I’m on the right track.”  
Jean-Luc rose to his feet and adopted a cool demeanour. “Yes, well.” he said as he tugged down the front and back of his shirt. “I think we’ve gone as far as we need to for this session.”  
Deanna gave his declaration some brief thought, weighing the pros and cons of directly confronting him over who was actually in control. She sighed as she came to the inescapable conclusion that, in this instance, she would lose the tiny toehold she had on the wide, glacial, and troubled plain of her patient’s psyche if she did.

She offered a slight inclination of her head and acceded. She did, however, make sure the man knew it was actually her decision to make, not his. “Captain,” she stood and looked up into his eyes. “these sessions are under my control. I run them, I oversee their course and I evaluate their content. In this one instance I agree that, since this joint session is no longer a joint one, it’ is probably a good time to bring it to an end.”   
She gave a small, tight smile. “However, the questions I’ve asked, the ones that you find so distressing, will still need to be answered, and the longer you try to avoid them, the harder it will become.”  
She lifted her chin and strode to the door, turning back just as they opened. “Good afternoon, Captain. I’ll see you both same time tomorrow.”  
Jean-Luc glared at the closing doors, his hot look searing the back of Deanna’s disappearing uniform. “Fuck!” he barked to the otherwise empty quarters. He stalked to his favourite chair, casting a longing look at the drinks cabinet. The thought that briefly zapped through his mind was very tempting.

In his mind’s eye he saw himself seated in his chair, admiring the mellow amber tones of his preferred scotch in the crystal tumbler, the cubes of ice tinkling musically within. He shook his head with anger and irritation and flung himself into his chair, where he sat in morose silence. He was still there when Beverly returned hours later with their children. To his credit he was sober.

Throughout her admittedly short Starfleet career, Katya had become accustomed to being under scrutiny. It wasn’t something she enjoyed, but she grudgingly accepted it as par for the course. Once the torrid pressure of her academy days was behind her, the scrutiny changed to the tried-and-true methods of education under the chain of command.  
It irritated her, especially when it concerned her WD work. She’d always felt she knew far more than those who oversaw her work. Now that she was free of the hierarchical structure of Starfleet, and now in the private sector, and considered one of the leading lights in her field, she relished in the freedom that that modest celebrity afforded her. 

At least when it came to her work. However, her desire to keep her private life private and her past obscured, meant that she was always somehow on alert for the slightest hint of anyone seeking information they were not privileged to. So, it was no surprise when she received a quiet heads up from a new friend in personnel that someone was asking things they shouldn’t, that she reacted badly.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked hotly, causing the informant to make a quick waving down gesture. “Shh!” The young woman hissed, her expression panicked. “I’m not supposed to say anything.”  
Katya took a deep breath and strove to calm herself. “Ok.” she managed, savagely quashing the strong urge to take the female by the shoulders and shake her. “What do you mean when you say that someone’s doing some digging?”   
The woman gave Katya a speculative look and shrugged. “Look,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “When you said you’d make it worth my while to let you know if anyone made any attempts to access your personnel file, I didn’t anticipate that giving you any warnings might cost me my job.”

That surprised Katya and caused her to reassess her anger. “Is your job threatened?”  
“You tell me.” The female said cryptically. On seeing Katya’s clouded expression, the worker sighed and rolled her eyes. “The person who asked me to do the digging also told me that should you be informed, I’d be looking for another job ... with no positive references, and a clear note of unreliable corporate privacy issues entered into my work record.”  
Now clearly suspicious, Katya narrowed her eyes. “So, why are you taking the risk?”  
The female smiled coldly. “Two reasons. One: I’m hoping you’ll really make it worth my while, and two: the person doing the digging is a total bitch.” She then snapped her fingers. “Oh, and she’s a relative of the owner. The CEO.” The informant emphasised.  
“I see.” Katya remained calm. “So, what, exactly, did she want to see in my file?”  
“Mostly how it is that someone as young as you have so much experience in warp dynamics. I think she’d already sniffed around and when she didn’t find any reference to you in the private sector sites, she became curious.  
“Ok, so what did you do?”

The female shrugged. “Nothing. I told her that I wasn’t allowed to let anyone but those authorised to see employee’s files.”  
“So?”  
“She was pissed and made the veiled threat about my job then buggered off back to whatever her job is.”  
Katya frowned. “But you said the threat to your job was if you told me that someone’d been digging.”  
“It was!” the worker said in an incredulous tone. “She told me that if I said anything to you, even though I’d not opened your file, that I’d be looking for a new job.”  
An awkward silence passed before Katya sighed and made a rolling gesture with her hand. “Right. So, what did you mean by me really making it worth your while?”  
Pulling her mouth down, the worker shrugged and lifted her hands. “I don’t know ... maybe double what you originally offered?”  
“Ten bars?” Katya snapped. “You want ten bars of latinum to simply do your job?”

The woman’s expression became cold. “What’re ten bars of latinum compared with peace of mind?” She scowled and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “After all, it’s not your job on the line.”  
Katya hated the thought, but she had to agree. “All right, ten bars a month.”  
“Thank you.” The reply was almost contemptuously cool, as if the previous bargaining had been insulting.  
Katya left the booth in the cafe, her mind whirling. “This is Picard’s fault!” she seethed. “His putrid stench has reached me even here.”  
She returned to her work, but only half of her mind was on the task at hand. She never noticed the calculated expression on the face of the woman in the adjoining work area. Katya’s co worker did though. He watched with growing interest and concern before casually making his way to Katya, keeping most of his attention on a PADD in his hand. 

Once he was by her side, he proffered the device, startling the woman. He murmured quietly, “Don’t look up, just make it seem like we’re discussing what’s on the PADD.”  
“What?” Katya said nervously, but recovered enough to do as Tom suggested. Her momentary startle quickly gave way to growing anger. “Is this some kind of joke?” she hissed dangerously. “I’ve already told you I don’t...”  
“Shh.” Tom advised softly. “I’m not harassing you, Katya; this isn’t some lame attempt to ask you out.”  
She allowed her eyes to shift sideways in a heated glance. “Then what the hell is it?”  
“Over in the propulsion output lab ... Don’t look!”  
Somehow Katya resisted the urge to do just that. “What? What are you talking about?”  
“Sally McCormack. She’s been watching you like a hawk.”  
“So?”  
Tom sighed and gave a short shake of his head. “She’s bad news, Katya.”

“In what way?”  
“She likes to get into people’s heads. Somehow she’s got the knack of sniffing out those employees who have stuff they want to keep private.”  
Katya’s eyes rose to meet Tom’s. “That would be in direct violation of the current privacy laws. Corporate and public.”  
“Agreed, yet she’s been responsible ... or so I’m told, for the sudden departure of a few people. And of course, there are those who stayed and paid.”  
“Meaning what, exactly?”  
“Meaning that regular payments are made to ensure non disclosure.”  
Katya actually gaped. “Blackmail?”  
“Yes. But you won’t find any proof.”  
“Then how is it you’re so au fait with this?”

Tom sighed and gestured to the other side of the room where they couldn’t be seen from the other lab. “Because I know someone who’s fallen foul of McCormack.”  
Katya narrowed her eyes and gave Tom a long look. He understood her wariness. “Look, it has nothing to do with me, I’m only letting you know that if Sally McCormack is showing interest in you ... and she is ... then you’d best be prepared for her to make some kind of play.”  
After some long moments in thought, Katya asked quietly, “Who is she? I heard she’s a relative of the owner?”  
“Yes.” Tom sighed. “His niece.”  
“And I take it the owner has no idea about what his niece is getting up to?”

Tom shrugged. “I assume no. I mean there are so many laws being broken, it’d shut this company down instantly if it came to light.”  
Katya’s expression hardened. “That sounds like leverage to me.”  
Tom’s eyebrows rose and he gave a nod of respect. “Indeed. Perhaps a weapon to be wielded if and when required.”  
The look Katya gave Tom was filled with defiance. “Forewarned is forearmed. Well, if she makes her move, I’ll try a countermove ... see what happens.”  
Tom shuffled his feet and lowered his head. “If you need to talk...”

At first, Katya’s anger rose, and she was going to rebuff him hard, but then she realised she actually owed the man her gratitude.   
“That coffee you wanted to have?” she muttered dryly. “Still hankering for a caffeine hit?”  
His smile was tentative and a little slow in emerging, but when it landed his eyes twinkled. “Always up for caffeine.” He quipped dryly. “Right.” Katya nodded, an appreciative eyebrow quirked. “After work?”  
Tom’s smile grew. “I’ve often found coffee rounds off a meal in a very satisfying way.”  
His boldness made Katya shake her head. “Good grief, give you an inch and you take a mile.” His faux-surprised expression was overdone, but it made her smile.  
“Inch? Mile? I’ve no idea what those are.” He struggled to keep his laughter at bay.  
Katya gave an incredulous look and a flip of her hand. “Zardo’s. Seven thirty.”  
“I’ll see you then.” Tom’s grin stayed on his face for the remainder of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

Beverly hadn’t raised the issue of her husband’s behaviour, instead opting for cool detachment when she had to interact with him. She knew this would irritate him, he detested discord at the best of times, but when he was the target of his wife’s displeasure, it was doubly galling. It was only a matter of time before he decided enough was enough. He knew he was at fault and understood an apology was due. The trouble was he was having difficulty finding the right time to do it and that in turn further upset Beverly, who felt he was obfuscating. 

She was completely cognisant of what was happening and the knowledge that her husband was waiting for an opportune time to apologise rankled because he was choosing the time to suit him, when in fact he should’ve apologised from the outset.  
It was late, the children were in bed and the couple had endured another silent, cold standoff. Beverly fumed through the unsociable time, her mind roiling with hurt and indignation while opposite, sitting in his chair and seemingly untouched by the brittle atmosphere, Jean-Luc studied a PADD, his eyes tracking the words displayed, but in reality, seeing nothing. He sighed as his mind reached the inevitable conclusion that the time had come to offer his apology.  
Using exaggerated care, he placed the PADD on the low table and composed himself, adopting what he felt was a calm and controlled attitude. He should’ve known better.  
“Beverly,” he began hopefully. “I owe you an apology.” 

Before he could go any further, Beverly tossed her book onto the seat beside her and folded her arms across her chest. “Only one?” she asked sarcastically.  
Jean-Luc pursed his lips and quashed the irritation that rose so quickly. He decided to let her barb pass by unremarked. “I said some things that...”  
“Yes, you most certainly did!” Beverly’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Not only did you accuse me of conspiring with Troi against you, but you also refused to answer questions that are crucial to your healing ... our healing!” she stressed, the hurt in her voice clear.

Jean-Luc’s rising anger rapidly obliterated both his desire to remain calm and his fragile grip on his emotions. “Those questions you and Troi badgered me with have no bearing on my recovery!” he growled menacingly. “They are totally irrelevant!”  
“Then why won’t you answer them?” Beverly wailed, her frustration making her want to cry. “If it means so little to you, why do you refuse to entertain them?”  
He was on his feet before he registered the fact. “Because it’s none of your fucking business!” he shouted.  
Beverly found an eerie calm. “Oh, but it is.” she murmured quietly.

Somehow Jean-Luc managed to calm himself. He retook his seat and spent some moments reorganising his thoughts. “Look,” he eventually said. “why don’t you just trust my judgement on this? Don’t you think I’ve experienced enough personal trauma to be able to differentiate between what’s relevant and what’s not?”  
The sadness that settled on Beverly’s face wrenched at Jean-Luc’s heart. “That’s the problem, Jean-Luc. Too much personal trauma has made you gun shy.” She sighed deeply and rubbed her face with her hands. “Besides,” she murmured sadly. “what you’re doing is also an abdication of responsibility. By refusing to answer the questions, you’re trying to define what’s right and what’s wrong. In this instance, you don’t have that right.”  
“Why?” Jean-Luc snapped harshly. “Why don’t I have that right? It’s me who’ll suffer if I open things I’d rather not. Why don’t I have the right to protect myself?”  
Two potent emotions instantly surged through Beverly, both vying for dominance. Anger and sorrow warred briefly. It was sorrow that won the battle.  
“That’s it in a nutshell. Congratulations, Jean-Luc. You’ve hit the nail right on the head.”

His eyes narrowed, but he stubbornly refused to ask the obvious. Beverly gave him a sad, pitying smile and provided the answer anyway. “It’s all about you.” She rose slowly and sent a long look at her husband, debating whether or not to point out the glaring flaw in his logic. Instead she shrugged and walked away, too tired and dispirited to continue.  
Jean-Luc watched her go, his anger suddenly giving way to guilt and shame. He was acutely aware of the point his wife had made and it tore at him that he was utterly unable to either admit he was not alone in his difficulties and that Beverly shared the same troubles, or that he was simply unable to address the more personal aspects of the abuse he’d suffered.   
He looked at the sofa with morose distaste and knew he was in for another long, uncomfortable night, tormented not only by his body, crying out for the comfort his bed, but with a mind roiling in anguish, despair and a seemingly never-ending slideshow of hideous memories.

Will was surprised when he received the call from Starfleet Command. Since their failed mission involving Rurke and the other ship, the Enterprise had stayed in the star system, quietly nosing around to see if they could discover anything that might point them to the whereabouts of either ship. He’d not yet lodged a full report on what had transpired, he was hoping to spare his captain a reprimand. If they could find something that would revive their hunt, he speculated it might distract Command enough that they wouldn’t come down too hard on the man. In Will’s opinion he’d been through enough and deserved a break.  
Making sure he was composed and attentive, Will greeted the captain on the screen with a respectful nod. “Sir.”

“Commander.” The grizzled, grey haired male responded. “How goes it out in the wilds?”  
Will allowed a small smile while quietly thinking, “Not a bad start. Seems benign, at least so far.”  
Captain Geir was a Jinj’Le, his bluish, leathery skin and bright orange eyes easily identifiable. Will hadn’t had a lot to do with any of this species, as they’d not been Federation members all that long. However, he was aware of their well-earned reputation for lack of patience, especially when they suspected they were being lied to.   
Most often it would provoke an angry outburst that sometimes led to violence. Will could only assume that this male, having gone through all the psyche evaluations and academy training and discipline, and to also have reached the rank of captain, that he had found a way to curb his natural behaviour. 

Will had no deliberate intention of lying to the being, but if this present call from Command looked like it was going to impact badly on his CO, then Will wouldn’t hesitate. Just how far he’d go he was yet to discover. He fervently hoped it wasn’t far at all.  
“That was bad luck in losing the commander of the ship you nabbed.” The male remarked blandly. Before Will could say anything, the being added, almost snidely, “And his ship.”  
Will couldn’t decide if he was being baited or not, so he chose to be non-committal. “Yes, that was bad luck, sir.”  
The Jinj’Le captain stared at Will, his expression unreadable. If he thought he would provoke Will into reacting he was sadly mistaken. The commander was a master poker player. He was perfectly capable of maintaining a calm, unruffled facade as long as was necessary.

After several long, silent minutes, the captain huffed and shook his head, as if shaking off an unwanted train of thought. He glanced down and Will heard a PADD activating. A few more moments passed before the male cleared his throat and refocused his attention on Will. “We’re bringing the Enterprise home, Commander. There’re some engineering and bio sciences upgrades due, and we want to recalibrate your warp core.”  
This was news to Will. Though it was not unusual to bring starships back to Earth for maintenance, it was far more usual for them to visit a starbase for the work. But quite apart from that, the Enterprise had undergone her upgrades only 8 months previous. She wasn’t due for anything major for another two to three years, and any work on the warp core was certainly considered major.  
“Something’s going on here...” Will mused silently. Outwardly he knew that any show of surprise or unease would trigger unwanted attention. So, he gave a dutiful nod and said, “Understood, Captain. We’ll set course and speed immediately.”  
Will expected the call to terminate, but the captain tilted his head and offered a cool smile. “You have permission to exceed warp 5.”  
“Sir?” Will was unable to keep the wariness out of the word

“Is there a problem, Commander Riker?” The captain’s question was a definite challenge, one Will ignored.  
“No, sir.” he offered a confident smile. “At what speed would you suggest we proceed?”  
The Jinj’Le’s eyes narrowed as he tried to decide whether or not the human was being deliberately insubordinate. He’d found humans often hid indiscipline within craftily worded sentences. It annoyed him greatly, yet unless he was sure he was being disrespected, there was little he could do except give the clear impression that he would mete out severe punishment to any so foolish as to try.  
“Warp 8.5 will suffice, Commander.” he replied stiffly, his eyes blazing almost blood red.  
“Warp 8.5, aye, sir.”  
“Geir, out.”   
Will smiled grimly. There was no sound as a link was terminated, but the commander thought he distinctly heard the savage stab of the captain’s finger hitting the tab.

Lannit was confident he’d left little by way of a trail, but as a precaution he’d left his ship in orbit of the planet he’d reached, then transported down and immersed himself in the local culture. There were plans he intended to set in motion. He stayed overnight and just after dawn the next day, he hired a personal vessel, nothing fancy, just a nondescript craft capable of interplanetary journeys at low warp speeds. Of course, he appeared in disguise and supplied false identification and had no trouble taking the little ship on a nine-day lease.  
Over the course of three days, he visited four of the eleven planets in the system before going back to the second one he’d called at and settling there for two days. He then hired another craft and repeated the wandering. In all he did this five times.   
When he finally stood outside the clinic he’d chosen, he sighed with deep satisfaction. This facility had been his intended goal choice all along. He knew Rurke was on his tail and he also knew the broker had at his disposal a huge network of informants. He was certain Rurke would’ve contacted the employer, so it was inevitable there would be a lot of latinum distributed to ensure all available eyes were searching for him.  
The doors whispered open and a lovely creature; its gender not readily distinguishable, drifted over to him and offered a low bow. “Madame.” The being purred. “Please, enter out sanctuary and be reborn.”  
Lannit had spared no expense on his new disguise. Over the past five days he had used several disguises, but none as elaborate or as convincing as this his present one. To anyone looking at him, even carefully, he appeared as a middle-aged Betazoid woman of refined tastes. The clothing was very fashionable and of high quality, the footwear the same. His hair looked beautifully styled and his facial features and hands so carefully altered and made up as to be perfect. The person he projected oozed elegance and wealth.

Lannit ensured no one would find the team of three who had transformed him, by killing and dismembering them. He disposed of their remains at a local zoo, chuckling quietly as he stood in the crowd, watching as the keepers fed the carnivores, not knowing that mixed in the animal’s feed were the chopped-up bits and pieces of his victims. He had quietly hired them on three different planets, finally gathering them at his present location for the work. They never suspected that it would be their last job.  
At the clinic he was led through to an ornately decorated office where the distasteful matter of payment was arranged. Once his package choice had been determined and his funds had been deposited and verified, the being graced him with a wide, warm smile. That expression faltered, though only minutely, when a scan revealed the real gender of the customer. And of course, the terrible damage to his genitalia.  
As Lannit watched its face, he saw each thought as it crossed the being’s mind. First was the subtle avarice of knowing it had a well-heeled customer who wanted a lengthy procedure, followed by an instant of confusion, and then realisation as to the real reason the person was there.

His voice was devoid of emotion, yet there was a definite threat when he said, “I value my privacy. I would be exceptionally upset if any details of my visit made it outside this building.”  
Adopting an offended air, the attendant straightened and lifted its chin. “I can assure you, madam, we pride ourselves on our scrupulous confidentiality. We would not enjoy the high regard we do if we were foolish enough to divulge what happens here.” It gave an intense, penetrating stare to emphasise the declaration.   
“I’m aware of your reputation.” Lannit replied quietly. “It is why I chose you.” he shrugged and pulled his lips down. “Nevertheless, I must reiterate, in fact I cannot express it firmly enough. Not one word, not one casual aside about my visit must leave this facility. Not by mouth, not by any electronic or mechanical medium. Because if it does, I can promise retribution, the likes of which you can’t possibly imagine. Both corporate and personal.”  
For the first time the being felt the crawling spread of unease make its way up its spine. Gathering its dignity around it as a shield, it stepped back and adopted a formal stance. “If you have any doubts as to our integrity, perhaps you should consider using another facility?”

“No.” Lannit summoned a cool smile. “I feel I’ve chosen correctly. I simply wish to convey to you the importance I place on my privacy.”  
“It was never in any danger.” The being tried to put a rebuke in its tone but failed. Giving itself a mental shake, it summoned the surgical team. “Our specialists will discuss your surgical needs with you. I will speak to you after your procedures have been completed.”  
Lannit summoned a lazy smile and quipped, “Are there refunds for failures?”  
The being returned his smile with a withering grin of its own. “Such a scenario has never been warranted. There are no failures.”  
It left the room on that cryptic note, leaving Lannit to await his future.

Having arrived at the planet hosting the orbit of Lannit’s ship, Rurke quickly discovered his quarry had disappeared. Now back aboard his own vessel, the broker gave grudging respect to Lannit, admitting to himself that he had underestimated him. He’d been over to Lannit’s ship and, finding the vessel empty, he knew his task had just become far more complicated. Somehow, Lannit Yan had hidden his captives. It was either that or he’d disposed of them, though Rurke doubted that would be the case.  
He knew Lannit. He understood why Lannit was seeking a top-of- the- range physical restoration clinic, and he was aware how badly Lannit wanted to abuse his captives. Especially as they didn’t actually belong to him. It was a typical way for the sexual deviant to thumb his nose at the employer and Rurke. An emphatic Fuck You.  
As he’d predicted, the call to his employer was every bit as difficult as he’d envisaged. Rurke described Lannit’s efforts to cover his tracks and his success in hiding his captives, and had mentioned his reluctant respect for his quarry. The employer wasn’t so magnanimous. “So, he has stolen from me as well?” The being’s voice carried barely suppressed fury. “Why wasn’t this foreseen?” he asked coldly.  
Rurke quashed the urge to shrug. He was well aware his employer was exceptionally angry and therefore even more dangerous and unpredictable than usual. “That is my fault, sir. I thought the well-hidden tracking device on his ship would be enough. Obviously, I was wrong.”

The acknowledgement of that was ominous. “Yes, you were most definitely wrong.”  
Rurke had been doing his job for a very long time and he’d worked for all sorts of people. Some basically good, many more exceptionally bad. But at this stage of Rurke’s life he had reached a point where he had accepted his continuing existence was at the whim of whoever was employing him and had become quite philosophical about it. He waited with calm equanimity while the mysterious being considered his fate.  
“I take it you have fared well in your career?” The employer asked.  
Rurke gave a nod. “Yes, sir.”  
“And you consider I’ve always remunerated you adequately?”  
“Yes.”  
“And the bonus I promised at the conclusion of this current job was acceptable?”  
“Yes, sir. Exceptionally so.”  
The employer’s tone became colder. “Then as punishment for your exceedingly lax error, your bonus has been halved. However, if you bring Lannit Yan and his captives to me within one month, I will not only reinstate the bonus, but I will also double it.”  
“That is most generous, sir. Thank you.”

Rurke saw a movement the dim shadows surrounding the employer. Once again, he got the distinct impression there was someone else there.  
“There is, of course, an equally generous consequence for failure.” The employer said with quiet menace. “You will forfeit your life. The only concession I will afford you for your many years of good service will be to make it quick and painless.”  
Rurke’s voice was steady as he replied, “Thank you, sir.”  
“It’s the least I can do.”   
Rurke thought he heard cold humour, but he might’ve simply imagined it. “However,” the mysterious employer continued, “in the here and now, it seems you’re facing three scenarios. Bring me Lannit Yan and his ship ... my ship ... and you receive half your agreed pay and half of the bonus. Bring me Lannit Yan, my ship and the captive females and you receive full pay and a double bonus. But, fail to bring me Lannit Yan and the captives, you die.” The employer paused briefly then snorted. “I consider the ship expendable, so if, in the event it’s lost, I won’t hold you responsible, however, I would prefer I get it back.”  
“Of course, sir.”  
“Very well. I take it you have a trail to follow?”

“Yes, sir, I have. Lannit Yan isn’t on this planet, but I’m beginning to receive reports that lead me to believe I know where to go next.”  
“Good. I’ll keep myself informed as to your progress, but I will want regular updates from you.”  
“Yes, sir, of course.”  
The link abruptly closed and Rurke sat back and sagged in his seat. He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, bringing his heart rate back to a lower level. He had negotiated the perils of admitting to an error and survived.   
But had he told his employer everything, it may have ended quite differently. It was a spur of the moment decision, not something Rurke was wont to do. He was a planner, a strategist. To make a snap decision, especially about something so critically important, something that had the potential to end his life, was not something he would usually even contemplate. Rurke sighed and scrubbed his face with uncharacteristic worry. The broker had failed to tell his employer about Picard’s semen being destroyed. 

He didn’t actually know why he’d not admitted it. Something in the back of his mind told him it might prove providential. Rurke pondered that for a while, trying to make the vague feelings gel together, but eventually gave up. He knew that in time it would come to him. He could only hope it came before he found himself at the none-too tender mercies of his employer.

The frigid standoff between Jean-Luc and Beverly lasted two days. In that time Jean-Luc tried to find a way to attempt a peace of some sorts, but as Beverly was still smouldering, his efforts were doomed to failure.  
Just as the second day was drawing to a close, Jean-Luc sighed. The children were in bed and he and Beverly were seated in their customary seats in the living area.   
Neither was really concentrating on the items in their hands; a book for Jean-Luc, and a PADD for Beverly. Having reached a decision, one that had been difficult to arrive at, Jean-Luc put his book down on his lap and cleared his throat experimentally. He knew if his wife graced him with her attention, he’d be half way to achieving some kind of peace. If not, he’d have to work harder on finding another strategy.  
When Beverly gave no indication she was aware of his opening gambit, he stifled the urge to sigh and made a show of closing his book and placing it on the low table between them.  
Beverly’s reaction was to simply glance at his book and offer a barely concealed sneer. This time Jean-Luc couldn’t hide either his sigh of irritation or his eye roll. Both gestures provoked a predictably hostile reaction.  
“Typical.” Beverly growled sarcastically.

When she said nothing more, Jean-Luc felt provoked into a sadly predictable churlish response. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.  
Beverly made a show of sighing and saving her place in the text she’d been pretending to read. She copied her husband’s actions of carefully placing her PADD on the low table. She summoned a wry smile and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Who’d have thought that a simple piece of furniture would serve as such a powerful barrier?”  
Jean-Luc frowned, considered her remark, and tried to find his way through it. He failed. He shook his head in confusion and repeated cautiously, “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
Beverly expression was bland, but she couldn’t hide the anger and hurt lurking in her eyes. “Do you really need me to explain?” she asked sadly.  
Jean-Luc shrugged. “Obviously, as I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” He had tried to keep his tone even, but his frustration and irritation seeped through. Beverly heard it, but it only served to increase her desolation.   
She again gestured towards the table. “You really don’t get it?”

When her husband maintained his stoic intransigence, Beverly almost gave up. She speared him with an uncompromising look, but then relented and sighed with resignation. “Okay.” she conceded. “I’ll explain.” There followed a sad sigh.  
“The table.” she indicated with a wave of her hand. “By addressing your actions, the closing of your book and the careful placing of it on the table, you’ve utilised it as a safe zone, a way of making a clear barrier between you and me.”  
Jean-Luc’s expression was derisive. “Nonsense.” he began, but Beverly cut him off.  
“No.” she stated emphatically. “Not nonsense.” She offered a sad smile, and it struck a barb deep into Jean-Luc’s gut. “Look at it, Jean-Luc. It’s a physical and emotional barrier. You’re using it as a way to deflect your guilt.”  
His first instinct was to deny her words, but he was aware of the truth. If he really wanted to heal this latest rift, he would have to admit to some uncomfortable truths. He took a steadying breath and gathered his thoughts.  
“Yes.” he said as decisively as he could. “I can see that my actions could be viewed like that.” When Beverly attempted to interject, he held up a hand. “And I concede that it’s a strategy that I’ve used before.” he sighed and a frown developed on his brow. “I also concede it’s unhelpful and ... damaging.”

Beverly silently considered his words, and then shrugged, her diffident attitude confusing him.   
“Then why do you do it?” she asked baldly.  
The question seemed at first to be a simple one, but as Jean-Luc thought about it he quickly saw its complexity. He struggled to find an adequate answer.   
Eventually, after an uncomfortable silence, he was forced to shrug helplessly. “I don’t know.” he said very quietly. He then gave Beverly a hopeful look. “Force of habit?”  
She nodded her agreement, but her expression remained cool.   
“Yep, I’d have to say that’s true.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Somehow, she gathered her patience. “So why?” she gave her husband a long look. “Why do you do it? By now you must know that it’s a pointless, unhelpful strategy. In fact, it’s counterproductive; it only delays the process of healing.”

Before Jean-Luc could offer any response, Beverly continued. “You’re self-sabotaging. It’s as if you know that this kind of attempt at avoiding the issues is doomed to fail, but it’s become so much a part of your denial that it’s second nature.” She couldn’t hide her contempt as she added, “You don’t want to face the truth of your trauma because you’re a coward.”  
That cold, dispassionate declaration, the second time in recent events that he’d been so accused, made Jean-Luc instantly incandescent with fury. He shot to his feet, his face pale and his hands tightly fisted by his sides. “How dare you!” he hissed.  
In the face of his anger, Beverly offered a diffident shrug. “You have to ask?” she said with a flip of her hand. “If I can’t tell you the truth, who can?”  
Suddenly deflated, Jean-Luc’s shoulders dropped. He blinked several times as he processed what Beverly had said. As the veracity of her words filtered through, he shook his head and plonked down into his seat.  
“I’m not a coward.” he whispered pitifully, as if trying to convince himself.

Beverly watched her husband, doing her best to keep her pity and compassion hidden. “Generally speaking, no, you’re not.” she conceded quietly. “But when it comes to matters of an intensely personal nature, you’re as yellow as a banana.”  
Long brittle minutes passed as Jean-Luc struggled with his emotions. The pain his wife’s words had caused him almost made him writhe. And the trouble was, he knew, he knew that she was right. He was a coward in this matter, but for the life of him he didn’t know how to overcome it.

The memories of what had happened to him during his capture was simply too traumatic for him to visit. It was bad enough that they came to him unbidden, tormenting him during both his waking hours and his sleep, but to expect him to recount his experiences ... No, he just couldn’t do it.  
Not now, anyway. In the future, perhaps might be able to, though he didn’t really think that was at all very likely. In the here and now he had to find a way to live with his memories, while at the same time, deal with the relentless, though well meaning, efforts of Beverly and Deanna to get him to talk about them.  
Beverly had sat in silence as her husband struggled to come to terms with her hard truths. She had hoped that her words, so seemingly cruel, had been enough to force him to face the fact that, in order to heal, he had to confront his demons.  
But as she watched his expression slowly change from abject misery, through shock and eventually to grim, flinty determination, she knew he was going to refuse.  
It saddened her deeply and in her despondency, she wondered if their marriage was going to survive it.

For the third time in five minutes, Katya made a mess of playing her tsymbaly. She was becoming angry as each attempt to play what had always been her favourite tune was met with failure. She rose from her seat at the table where the tsymbaly sat and wandered over to the windows, rolling the hammers between her fingers.   
Her dinner date with Tom was playing on her mind. She sighed as she tried to figure out why such an innocuous thing like that could throw her off kilter so badly that she was unable to play a simple childhood melody on her instrument.  
It made absolutely no sense, but that in itself was cause for worry. Too many things had become difficult of late. And she knew she was constantly over-thinking everything, as well, too. She shook her head in embarrassment and dismay as she recalled a recent breakfast that ended with her storming out of her flat in disgust when she was unable to make a simple choice between eggs, toast, or cereal.  
Katya was no fool and she understood that her traumas, the memories still so very vivid, would take some time to recover from, but she hadn’t expected or even considered that the after effects could manifest in such unusual and damned annoying ways.  
With a brusque shrug of her shoulders she turned back to her instrument, fully intending to overcome her mental turmoil and find some solace in the music. However, she diverted her path and was surprised when she realised, she’d walked into her bathroom.  
It was disquieting how easily she convinced herself that that had been her destination all along. 

The frown gracing Tom’s face detracted from his usually considered handsome features. And, as his eyes tracked the source of his disquiet, they too lost their perpetual friendliness to become cold and flinty.  
He realised Katya had chosen the restaurant with care. It was close to where she lived, it was small, and had a subdued atmosphere to it. So, when he spotted Sally McCormack entering, he became immediately suspicious.  
The woman didn’t live nearby, Tom was certain of that and, as she appeared to be alone, he could only surmise that she’d somehow learned of his and Katya’s intention to dine at Zardo’s. He had to warn his new friend.  
While McCormack was waiting to be seen by the maître ’de, Tom rose and moved towards the toilets, situated at the rear of the establishment.   
Once out of sight of the diners, he diverted and entered the kitchen, quickly finding his way to the back doors. He was outside and connecting to Katya’s communication device seconds later.  
Fortunately, she answered quickly. “Tom?” he heard the wariness in her voice. He tabbed a request for video connect and her face appeared.  
He smiled to ease her alarm. “It’s ok, Katya, I’m just giving you a heads up. Sally McCormack just walked into Zardo’s.”

“What?!” Katya gasped. Tom watched as the shock gave way to anger. “What the fuck, Tom? How the hell did she...” Katya’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Did you say anything about our meeting for a meal? Did she find out from you?”  
“No!” Tom spat, angry, offended, and hurt that she would even think such a thing. He was about to say more when Katya shook her head.   
“Then how the hell did she find out?” The incensed woman thought for a moment while Tom, wisely, stayed silent. “Who is she with?”  
Tom shrugged and pulled his mouth down. “I didn’t see anyone, she arrived alone.”  
“But she could be meeting someone.” Katya speculated darkly.

Tom was tiring of the pointless parrying. “Look,” he sighed with impatience. “It doesn’t matter, does it? We can just go somewhere else.”  
“Like hell!” Katya’s eyes blazed. “If she’s there because someone told her we’d be there, then I want to find out what she’s up to. If we bail out and go somewhere else, it’ll just add fuel to her fire, and we’ll be no closer to finding out who spilled the beans.”  
Tom shrugged and gave a snort. “And her appearance might be nothing more than a coincidence.” he said, playing the devil’s advocate.  
They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before they both shook their heads. “Nah.” Tom muttered wryly.  
Katya lifted her chin and speared Tom with a defiant glare. “Are you up for some fun?”  
“Depends,” Tom said warily, “on what you mean by fun.”

“I’m only five minutes away. Go back inside, and once I join you, just follow my lead. Ok?”  
He thought for a moment or two, willing to go along with whatever she had in mind, but wary of what the consequences of that might be. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, Katya. I happen to like my job. She’s the owner’s niece, don’t forget.”  
“I haven’t forgotten, Tom, but do you really want to work for a company that turns a blind eye to the illegal behaviour of one of the owner’s relatives?”  
“Is he turning a blind eye, though?” Tom replied worriedly.  
“Only one way to find out.”  
Tom sighed and gave up. “I must be crazy, but ok, I’m in.”

The Enterprise was well into her journey to Earth. Will was seated in the command chair, preoccupied and staring into space, his mind wrestling with the possible motives his superiors had for bringing the ship back. The very fact that Geir had given no reason; at least none that made sense, for this redirection was cause enough to arouse suspicion in the acting captain.   
Will shook his head and gave a sigh as he realised these thoughts were getting him nowhere. Indeed, they were causing him to fret and that was something he didn’t wish to do. So, he pushed the entire jumble aside and concentrated on the quiet efficiency of the bridge, something he’d always found comforting.

As well as the comfort of knowing the ship was running smoothly, Will had no trouble in sensing the undercurrent of happy anticipation emanating from the crew. Although the Enterprise’s crew was comprised of beings from many different worlds of the Federation, it would be fair to say that humans were the largest species group on board. That wasn’t to say that all the humans on the ship came from Earth, but that planet had always been considered special. It was where the human species had originated and where the United Federation of Planets, in concert with the Vulcans, had begun.  
Even the Enterprise herself had a connection. She’d been constructed at Utopia Planitia shipyards on Mars. Close enough to Earth to be considered home. The ship didn’t often come back to the Sol system, so it was always a symbolically pleasant time for the crew when she did. Will wasn’t immune from to the emotional high he sensed, but his spirits were dampened by the ongoing struggles of his friends. He sighed and resisted the urge to ask the computer for the time. He’d done that twice already and he didn’t want the bridge crew to take note of his impatience. Deanna was with Beverly and Will worried about how the session was going.

For the third time in as many minutes, Beverly rubbed her face with her hands. Deanna understood the meaning of the gesture and sighed as she considered telling Beverly that it would be better to actually say the words, to express the emotions behind it, than to try and express her feelings through physical gestures. However, knowing her best friend as she did, the counsellor knew that such advice wouldn’t be received very kindly just then, so she refrained from saying anything and trusted Beverly to eventually arrive at the same conclusion on her own.

James was in the ship’s crèche and Beverly had fed Elly, who was now lying on a padded mat, playing with her feet. A silence had descended between the women, broken only by Elly’s soft noises.   
As Deanna watched the baby, her empathic senses easily picked up Beverly’s inner turmoil. A small, grim smile appeared on the counsellor’s face as her prediction about the redhead came true. Beverly let out a frustrated sigh and flopped back in her seat, allowing her head to rest on the cushioned back. She closed her eyes and lifted her hands in defeat.

“It’s so damned stupid!” she snapped with a shake of her head. “It’s no secret, what happened to him, Deanna. When I first saw him on the craft they took us away in, I saw his injuries and the nature of them. And every time he was taken away from us, he returned with fresh injuries, most to the intimate areas of his body. It was obvious he was repeatedly and brutally sexually assaulted.”  
Deanna was going to say something, but now that Beverly had actually started to talk about this particular topic, and she seemed keen to continue, Deanna chose to stay silent, hoping to encourage more.  
“I get it.” Beverly said, nodding slowly. “I get how difficult it is for him. I mean, apart from his sometimes archaic masculine thought processes,” she rolled her hand to add emphasis, “you know, the whole manly thing ... stoicism, bravery, etc.,” She rolled her eyes at that, “courtesy of his very traditional upbringing, no doubt, but he is a very private man. The thing is, that’s ok, there’s nothing wrong with that, provided he’s not like that with me!”  
Beverly got to her feet and began to wander around the room, causing Elly to ignore her feet and turn her head to follow her mother’s progress.  
“No offence, Deanna, but I can kinda understand why we doesn’t want to tell you, how he doesn’t want to have to describe what was done to him, but I don’t understand why he won’t tell me.” Beverly had completed a circuit of the room and retook her seat. “It hurts!” she said brokenly, tears appearing.

Deanna sighed and offered quietly, “Perhaps he feels that because of what he did, what he was made to do, to you and Katya, he feels he can’t tell you ... that in doing so he might be seen as lessening the impact of what you and Katya endured?”  
A deep frown creased Beverly’s brow. “Do you think that’s the case?”  
Deanna shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s possible. Along with those archaic male thought processes he has sometimes, there’s also his very -defined altruism. It might not even be something he’s aware of. He’s defaulting to ingrained behaviours if you will.”  
“Shit.” Beverly whispered softly. “So, if that’s the case, if his refusal to talk about what happened to him is because of a misguided sense of ... chivalry ...”  
“Perhaps, Beverly,” Deanna interrupted, “but it’s just as likely it may be as simple as him not being able to confront his memories. They’re just too traumatic.”  
“Then how do we help him?” The sadness and frustration Beverly felt was clear in her voice.  
Deanna sighed deeply, her own sense of helplessness causing despondence. “I honestly don’t know. Until he reaches a point where he’s able to articulate what happened, and is willing to do so, I can’t see that we can help.”  
Beverly slowly brushed away her tears. “You know...” she said quietly. “there are still times when I see him ... catching him in a certain light, or at an unguarded moment, that I see him as he was when he...” she sighed, bowing her head, and shaking it. “and I feel frightened.”

Deanna’s eyes closed in sympathy and sorrow. “That’s understandable.” she murmured softly. “It’ll fade with time, and if the captain can find a way to speak about what happened to him, the lingering after effects you’re experiencing will disappear that much more rapidly.”  
Beverly’s derisive snort clearly showed her disgust. “All the more reason for him to face his demons! I mean...” her anger made her eyes flash. “he’s being so fucking selfish!”  
Deanna sighed quietly and resisted the urge to shake her head. Her friend’s anger was understandable, but her words were manifestly unfair. There was an awkward, protracted silence, and both women were relieved when Elly began to fuss. Beverly left her seat, bent, and picked her daughter up. She stood and cuddled the little girl before sending Deanna an embarrassed, rueful smile.  
“It was a rotten thing to say, Deanna, and I regret it.”

The smile Deanna sent the doctor showed she understood. “Your feelings are justifiable, Beverly, and you certainly have the right to express them, in fact I think it’s a healthy thing to do.” The smile faded a little as she added, “Just keep in mind how damaging, how hurtful words can be when they’re spoken without due thought or care.”  
Beverly nodded, already determining to guard against flinging harmful and destructive accusations or insults at her husband. If she wanted him to find a way to finally unburden himself, then he required gentle encouragement, not condemnation

Rurke was trying to decide if the being he was talking to was genuine in her efforts in information gathering. The broker would never be so obvious as to have her payment with him, that would invite too much potential trouble, and there were always the eyes of others, eager to spot something to report to their handlers. 

In Rurke’s world, everybody had an agenda, every situation, not matter how innocent or innocuous it may seem, held the possibility for much more, and in his experience, it was rarely positive, or potentially healthy.  
The female’s eyes were restless, and she refrained from making eye contact with him. Rurke briefly pondered this. It might be a cultural trait, or she may have been under the influence of some kind of chemical. Such things like the use of mind-altering drugs were not uncommon on this planet, but a lifetime of involvement with this type of being had Rurke deciding that the informant was nervous and most probably because she was being watched.  
“So,” Rurke mused silently. “What’s her agenda? Is her information trustworthy, or has she been fed lies in order to suit someone else’s needs? And if that’s the case,” he speculated, “does she know? Is she willingly complicit, or has someone got a hold over her?”

He sighed and suddenly gripped the female’s elbow. She let out a yelp of surprise and fear, but could do nothing more as Rurke ordered his ship’s computer to transport them both aboard his ship.  
Her eyes widened at the sudden arrival on the vessel. Rurke let her go and gestured to the small room they were in. “There is no escape, so don’t waste my time or yours in even thinking about it.”  
His tone had been flat, totally devoid of any emotion, but the menace he projected effortlessly and quickly terrifying this captive into total submission. His next order made her begin to wail.  
“You will remove all of your clothing.” The broker sighed and shook his head. The female’s cries were increasing in volume and it was beginning to irritate. “I’m not going to rape you!” He had to shout to be heard. The captive looked fearfully through her tears and the volume of her wailing decreased, though she didn’t completely stop.

“I don’t intend to harm you in any way.” The viridian said mildly. But he then held up one finger. “Provided you don’t lie to me.”  
After a moment’s thought, the female said in a quavering voice, “Then why do I have to be naked?”  
Rurke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I wish to be certain you have no devices, such as listeners, or recorders or trackers, secreted. I will also scan your body. If I find anything, I’ll remove it ... by any method I find expedient. So, if you have any devices on or in your body, and you’re aware of it, it would be in your best interests to tell me now.”  
Terror and panic flashed across the female’s face. “Ah!” Rurke thought with grim satisfaction. “I was right.”  
The female lifted her hand and pointed to her scalp. “Here,” she began to sob. “strands of my hair ... some are not real.”  
“I see.” the broker sighed and shook his head. “Do you know where the strands are? Can you identify them by feel?”  
She shook her head, and then gasped as she expelled a loud fart. Rurke was quite used to these kinds of reactions. Vomit, urine, faeces, and intestinal gasses were often expelled due to fear. No species was immune to the vagaries of their bodies. He sighed again and tried to be patient. 

“I’d like you to answer my question.”   
The female struggled to remember what it was he’d asked, and failed. Terror does that too. And drug use.  
The broker lifted a hand and the female cringed, her eyes like saucers. Showing bored indifference, Rurke pointed to the few tufts of hair he had on his head. The sudden realisation in the female made her giggle. Then she began to cry again at her seemingly inappropriate lapse.  
The viridian waited, but his patience was wearing thin. He’d done this too many times. The female sensed what was happening and blurted, “I don’t know where they are! I can’t feel them.” She held up her hands and demonstrated rubbing her fingers together.  
After a slow, thoughtful nod, Rurke then shrugged. “Do you know if the strands were implanted, or grafted?”  
He saw confusion and panic build in the captive, so he offered a quick explanation. “Were the strand ends pushed into the skin of your scalp,” he made a jabbing motion with his finger near the top of his head. “or were they laid in patches with some cloned skin?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so, but,” she shrugged again, nervously. “I was high. I’d snorted some CD. I’ve no idea how they put them in … or on my head.”  
“Cosmic dust.” Rurke sighed. “Well, I’ll have to remove your hair. Then I’ll scan your scalp. If I find anything, it’ll be removed.” He pointed to the female and observed quietly, “You’re still clothed.”  
She stripped quickly, then backed away from the stocky viridian. He stooped and gathered up her clothing. “I’m leaving this room; however, I will return shortly. Behave yourself.”  
Only a few minutes passed before he re-entered the room. He was carrying a hand-held device. He gestured to the female and she approached warily. “You will stand still and obey all of my instructions.”  
She nodded and he saw she was trembling. He reached into a pocket and withdrew a small packet. Her eyes widened and the nostrils of her flat, wide nose flared. “Put out your hand, palm up.” He instructed.  
She obeyed and Rurke tapped out a small quantity powder. She didn’t wait for any instruction; the substance disappeared up her nose within scant seconds.  
Annoyed by her actions, the broker gripped her chin in a painful grasp and forced her to look into his eyes. “That was unacceptable behaviour. You’ll get no more CD if you show such disrespect again. At the very least, you must wait until I give you permission to snort it.”

He let go of the female and she shuddered a sigh. “I’m sorry.” she whimpered.  
Rurke grunted sourly as he began to remove the female’s hair. As he did, he muttered, “And a thank you would’ve been appreciated.”  
The female said nothing, but when her captor had finished removing all the hair on her head, she gasped when he moved the device to her face. She looked at the hair on the floor and said timidly, “Have you missed some?”  
Rurke grunted again. “I didn’t say your head hair was your only bodily hair I was going to remove.”  
“You’re going to take off all of my body hair?” She was incredulous.  
“Yes. Every single one. Your entire body will be totally hairless when I’m finished.” He smiled, but it was a chilling expression. “And then I’ll scan you. All of you, inside and out.”

Lannit Yan had spent several days in a blissful haze of drug induced euphoria. He’d experienced no pain, he had been treated with the deference he felt he’d always deserved, and he’d been assured he would be delighted with his newly reconstructed cock. It was the day of the big reveal. After his newly reconstructed genitals had been thoroughly inspected, he was to be discharged from the clinic.  
He stared down at the head of the doctor as he concentrated on removing the last of the dressings, careful to cause no discomfort in the process. Having completed the task, the doctor straightened and made a florid gesture with his hands.  
“And there it is.” he murmured with obvious pride and appropriate reverence.  
Lannit’s eyes dropped to his groin and he gazed fixedly at his new cock. His smile was slow in appearing, but it grew exponentially as the doctor applied a small instrument to the organ that stimulated delightfully and caused Lannit’s cock to harden.   
“Oh!” Lannit whispered in awe. “Oh, it’s so lovely.”

The doctor hid his smirk. “Would you like me to take you to the conclusion?”  
Lannit was momentarily confused, but as he realised what the doctor meant, he grinned slyly. “Yes.” he sighed as he and closed his eyes.   
The doctor increased the stimulation and introduced another small device, which he inserted into Lannit’s vagina. As he’d been deprived of any sexual release for far too long, Lannit reached his orgasm quickly, leaving him breathless and hungry for more. The medic noticed Lannit’s erection hadn’t wilted in the slightest and smiled as he murmured, “More, sir?”  
“Yes.” Lannit’s eyes glittered. “A lot more. Continue until I tell you to stop.” His eyes drifted closed in hungry anticipation.  
When nothing happened, Lannit speared the doctor with a cold look. “Well?” he growled. “What are you waiting for?”  
With an apologetic, unctuous smile, the doctor said coolly, “An extended examination is an optional extra, sir. You haven’t stipulated that as part of your contract. This kind of service is charged either by the number of successful emissions, or by the time taken until you are ... satisfied. Whichever is the greater.”

It briefly crossed Lannit’s mind that he’d very much like to kill this arrogant prick, but he was too aroused to bother. With his jaw tightly clenched he ground out, “I will pay whatever you want! Just do it, and and keep doing it until I tell you to fucking stop!”  
“As you wish, sir.”  
When the quiet sounds of the devices began, Lannit sighed happily, thinking silently, “Perhaps I’ll come back and kill you later.” With that thought in his mind he drifted into a drug assisted sexual rapture.  
Four hours later, Lannit Yan was entering his suite in the hotel. He was disguised, this time appearing very different from his last outing, but it was a much simpler arrangement of clothing and disposable prosthetics. He appeared androgynous and didn’t speak to anyone as he scanned in his booking chit.   
He looked around his suite with satisfaction, even daring to venture out onto the balcony. He didn’t stay outside long, though. He quickly withdrew and stripped off his disguise and all of his clothing. His cock was delightfully sore, something he was accustomed to after he’d overused it. He cradled it in his hands, gazing at it with wonder and adoration.

“Oh, it’s so good to have you back.” he sighed. He was still affected by the drugs he’d been given. He’d been warned there could be some mild symptoms of craving, but he was assured they would quickly pass. That was soon disclosed to be a blatant lie. What he wasn’t warnmed about was that if he chose to refrain from taking any drugs, he would experience serious pain. Despite his cock looking normal and functioning as it should, it was in fact, far from healed. And the extended examinations he’d enjoyed was the last thing he should’ve been subjected it to.  
As the pain began and rapidly grew to agony, he would very soon come to realise that the doctor had deliberately lured him into a situation that he knew was going to cause Lannit significant pain. And it was all because the clinic sold the drugs that would not only ease the pain in his genitals, but also the inevitable withdrawal symptoms Lannit was about to endure.  
Later that night, almost sobbing with pain and desperate for the drugs, a ferociously angry Lannit Yan stumbled through the city. He’d discovered that the staff of the clinic resided on site. He was thus armed with all he needed to know.  
Before morning dawned, every single one of them, from the cleaners, through the administration staff, and right up to the surgeons, were all dead. And the doctor who’d tormented Lannit had been repeatedly raped with large objects and horrifically, and sexually, mutilated.

Oddly though, no drugs had been removed from the clinic. Lannit had decided he didn’t want to be an addict. Besides, he could take out his withdrawal symptoms on anyone he chose. That comforting thought made him smile.

They were in the ready room. Will cast his captain another look, hoping to make a further assessment of the man. So far, his surreptitious glances had gone unnoticed by Jean-Luc, but Will’s luck suddenly ran out. Having finished reading the text on his PADD, Jean-Luc looked up and caught Will staring.   
Anger flashed in the older man’s eyes, leaving Will stranded. There was no point in either apologising, or attempting to feign innocence. The big first officer knew he was trouble. He had to take his lumps.  
A long, cold, and exceedingly uncomfortable silence passed as Will sat quietly, his eyes trained on his captain’s right shoulder. Jean-Luc was dressed in civilian clothing, but Will was aiming his steady gaze where Jean-Luc’s rank pips would’ve been if he’d been in uniform.

When Jean-Luc finally spoke, Will almost winced at the suppressed anger in his voice. “I am not a subject to be scrutinised, Commander. I am not on active duty, as you well know, so your sly attempts at spying on me are both unwarranted and unprofessional.”  
That hurt and Will wasn’t able to completely hide it. Having shown his hand, he decided it was worth the risk to be honest. “It’s not unwarranted or unprofessional to be worried about a dear friend, Captain. I care about you, sir.” He summoned a smile and added gently, “We all do.”  
The anger which had been blazing so brightly in Jean-Luc’s eyes suddenly faded. His body lost its rigid posture and his head bowed. As Will watched on, the exhausted man lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he spoke, his voice was so ragged, the man had to strain to hear it.  
“I’m sorry, Will.” Jean-Luc gave a shuddering sigh and shook his head before lifting it to look at his exec. “I seem to be saying that a lot lately, and to those I care most about.” He closed his eyes briefly and then shook his head again. “A truly deplorable situation.”

There were far too many interpretations to that last statement. Will was momentarily at a loss as to how to address it. He needn’t have worried though, as Jean-Luc continued, “I know you’re concerned about me, Will, and I’m well aware of how recent events have conspired to leave me a bit battered, both mentally and physically. However, I feel if I can just catch my breath, as it were, I’ll get through this.”  
Again, his captain had used an ambiguous statement. Was he referring to the abduction and what ensued, or his descent into an alcohol induced stupor as a means of escape from that trauma? Or was he referring to everything that had transpired?  
Once again, Will felt wrong-footed. He sighed and said quietly, “Captain...” But he got no further. Jean-Luc held up his hand and shook his head and, although his face told its story of pain, anguish and exhaustion, his gaze was steady and uncompromising.  
“No, Number One.” he said. “Enough. I’m already the subject of scrutiny of a couple of very dedicated and determined women who are persistent in their efforts to help me in my recovery. I’m here in the ready room to discuss ship’s business with you, despite my off-duty status.” He smiled sadly, and added hopefully, Can we just do that? Can you just afford me this small sense of normality?” His gaze intensified as he added, “Please?”

Will’s heart squeezed in sympathy and a lump formed in his throat. He had to cough before he could speak. “Of course, Captain.” He was going to apologise for having caused the man to speak as he did, but he felt his captain was only just holding on to his composure and any kind, or gentle words, or shows of sympathy might tip the balance and break Jean-Luc’s tenuous hold on his emotions.  
Having straightened his posture, Will reactivated his PADD and moved on to the next item of the ship’s report. Jean-Luc briefly blinked his eyes and concentrated on making sure the tears that had begun to fill them didn’t fall.  
He won that battle, but it cost him dearly.

If it’d been left to Tom, he would’ve taken a completely different approach to the one Katya employed. But then again, Tom didn’t like confrontations. He was a reserved man who would rather not be put in a position whereby he had to confront the unpleasantness of other people’s less than harmonious behaviour.  
He gritted his teeth as he and Katya entered the bistro and fixed his expression into a semblance of arrogance as they negotiated the journey between the tables to retake their seats. And every step of the way was watched with keen interest by the dyed blonde, slightly overweight woman, seated near the side of the modest dining area, now almost filled to capacity.  
Katya had instructed him on how she wished him to behave. He’d begun to sweat with nervous tension even before they’d taken their seats.  
The other diners were oblivious to the slowly building tension between Tom, Katya, and Sally. The gentle sounds of quiet conversation and the noise of cutlery and crockery in use, laid a warm blanket over the area. However, it was being sliced through with sharp, angry glares of the two women.

Tom frowned, thinking Katya was playing her hand far too soon. Sally hadn’t done anything wrong … yet, and it may well be a coincidence that she was at this particular bistro at the same time they were. He doubted that was true, but the possibility existed, so Katya’s behaviour was not only ill conceived, but if Sally was on the prowl to make mischief, then Katya was giving her all the ammunition she’d need.  
With his stomach rapidly souring, Tom’s appetite vanished. He frowned when Katya shoved a menu into his hands and sighed when she hissed, “Smile, dammit, Tom. You look like you’re attending a fucking funeral.”  
All he wanted to do was leave, and he very nearly did. But he sensed, rather than saw, someone standing near him and he glanced up to see Katya had risen to her feet. He raised his hand and opened his mouth to speak but Sally McCormack beat him to it.  
“Well, isn’t this cosy? She simpered, her eyes rudely travelling up and down Kaya’s body. Katya said nothing, something for which Tom was grateful. He looked up at Sally and did his best to appear unruffled.  
“This is a long way from your usual haunts, Sally.” he remarked mildly. 

She glanced down at him and her smile became predatory. “I do like to cast a wide net, Tom. You never know what you might catch.” She winked provocatively and then added, “Gastronomically speaking, of course.”  
Tom nodded thoughtfully and gave a shrug. “So, you’re here for the food?”  
“Oh yes!” Sally said, placing her hand on her ample breasts. “I like to pander to my tastes with a wide variety of tasty morsels.”  
She let her eyes slide back to Katya, fully intending to needle her into a reaction, but instead she was abruptly silenced. There was a moment of shock at seeing the look of unadulterated hatred in her implacable glare.   
Sally recovered quickly, but just as rapidly made a hasty retreat, saying briskly, “briskly, “Well no doubt I’ll see you at work. We can have a chat then.”  
Tom offered an insincere smile before turning his attention back to Katya. When she remained standing, he was forced to say quietly, “Sit down, Katya. People are beginning to stare.”

It was true. A few diners had picked up on the awkward interaction and were sending each other enquiring looks. When Katya made no attempt to sit, Tom reached over and gently took her hand. “Katya?” he said cautiously.   
She was standing very still, her eyes fixed on Sally, who was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable under Katya’s cold, intense scrutiny.  
Tom was starting to worry. Panic began to grow as he desperately tried to figure out how he was going to get his date out of the bistro without making a scene.  
He tried one more time to coax her to her seat. He tightened his grip a little and applied a gentle downward pull while saying softly but urgently, whilst plastering a rigid smile on his face “Katya, for Christ’s sake, sit down.”  
She slowly tilted her head and allowed her eyes to fall to his hand, still gripping her wrist. A deep frown appeared before she blinked sluggishly, as if rising from sleep.  
“Tom?” she whispered, obviously confused. “What the hell are you doing?”

Tom closed his eyes briefly before saying, “Just sit down, Katya, please.”  
Moving with slow deliberation, she did as he asked and then twisted her hand until he released it, which he did almost immediately. She cradled her wrist in her other hand and the action confused the watching Tom. He hadn’t gripped her tightly; he was certain he’d not hurt her, yet she was reacting as if he had.

Before he could ask what was wrong, she speared him with a cold look and said with quiet menace, “Don’t ever touch me without my permission again.”  
Quite frankly, Tom was frightened. Her reaction was well over and above anything he could’ve expected. First was her absolute overreaction to Sally’s intrusion, and now, although she’d not said the actual words, he knew with certainty that he’d just been threatened. And it was most definitely a dire threat. He had no doubt she’d do him very real harm should he ignore her edict.  
“What has happened to you, Katya?” he wondered silently. “Why are you so damned angry?”

He was astonished when she suddenly picked up her menu and smiled. “I’m starving!” she announced. “I could eat a horse and chase the rider.”  
It was as if a switch had been thrown. The menacing Katya of mere seconds ago was gone and in her place was the far more familiar Katya Tom knew. “What the hell?” he thought silently. “What the fuck’s going on here?”  
She looked up from her perusal of the menu and grinned. “What are you going to have?” she asked brightly.   
Now totally confused and wary, before he answered, Tom chanced a glance over at Sally. She’d gone. 

Beverly had become accustomed to seeing her husband’s shoulders slumped and his expression bleak. It was sad that she so easily accepted it now. She knew with absolute certainty that while he walked through the corridors and departments of his ship that his shoulders would be squared and his back straight. Yet the moment he entered their quarters all pretence of his command bearing would desert him as the weight of his self-imposed purgatory resettled on his bowed psyche.  
He made a beeline for his favourite chair and sat heavily, sending his wife a perfunctory smile. A far more genuinely warm expression appeared when James approached his father and insinuated himself onto the man’s lap.  
“Hello, papa.” The little boy said before sighing and settling into Jean-Luc’s embracing arms.  
“Hello, James.” he replied, his eyes filling with tears. Beverly watched the interaction, her own eyes filling. 

Both adults lost their battle when James asked quietly, “Why are you so sad all the time, papa?”  
He was unable to reply. Not only could he not explain the situation to his son, but at that moment, he was robbed of speech by the lump in his throat. Instead he kissed the top of James’s head and hugged him tighter.   
On impulse, Beverly stood and went to the pair. She seated herself on the arm of her husband’s chair and bent to wrap them both in her arms. She could feel Jean-Luc’s trembling as he struggled for control.   
He lost the battle when she whispered, “It’s okay, Jean-Luc. We love you, that will never change.” She kissed his temple and added in a wobbly whisper, “We’ll get through this. Somehow, we’ll get through this.”  
It took several minutes before Jean-Luc was able to speak. What he said made Beverly shake her head in desolate anger.  
“I’m so sorry, Beverly.”

She took a couple of deep, calming breaths and replied, “I know you are, Jean-Luc. You’ve already apologised, and I’ve accepted your apology. It wasn’t your fault, Jean-Luc. It’s time you accepted that.”  
He loosened his hold on James and the boy sat up and offered a small smile. “I love you, papa.” he said. His hand rose involuntarily as he was about to suck his thumb, but he caught himself and grinned as he put his hand down. On seeing his father’s approving look, James sat a little straighter and announced, “I’m a big boy, papa. I don’t suck my thumb any more.”  
Jean-Luc ruffled his son’s hair affectionately and sighed. “There are times, James, when papa would like to suck his thumb. I know how hard you worked on denying that comfort, and I think you’re very brave to have beaten it.”  
Basking in his father’s praise, James was delighted when Beverly asked him if he’d like to set the table for their dinner. It wouldn’t be for a few hours, but the implied responsibility made the boy feel very important. Having made sure he understood to bring any difficulties to his parents, James hopped off his father’s lap to tackle his task, leaving the adults to talk quietly.  
“Deanna’s coming by tonight, after dinner.” Beverly said quietly as she took a seat on the sofa.

Jean-Luc did his best to appear accepting, but Beverly knew he dreaded all her visits. Counselling was very difficult for both of them, but it always left Jean-Luc further depressed and morose. She had to give him credit, though. He was trying. He was being honest. And yet…   
Beverly sighed and a small frown creased her brow. “He’s still holding something back.” she thought sadly. “And whatever it is, it’s eating him from the inside out.”  
It was difficult to put such thoughts aside, but she had to. As long as they were at the forefront of her mind, it would adversely colour her feelings towards her husband. And that in turn would make the counselling session that much harder. If that was at all possible.

With a small sigh, Beverly summoned an encouraging smile and did her utmost to bolster Jean-Luc’s flagging spirits. “It’ll be okay, Jean-Luc. Deanna won’t ask of you more than she thinks you can endure.”  
“I know.” The man said with a shake of his head. “But the fact that she determines how much I can endure is the point, isn’t it?”  
Beverly shrugged and a frown appeared. “Maybe, but do you really think it’d be better if you decided how far she goes?”  
By his sour expression, Beverly correctly interpreted his unspoken reply. Irritation rose in her and she had to concentrate on not allowing herself to spit back a heated remark. Instead she took some calming breaths and, once she felt her emotions settle, she re-entered the conversation.

“You know that wouldn’t work, Jean-Luc.” Before he could mount a protest, Beverly held up her hand and continued. “And it’s not just you in this boat. I have to afford Deanna the same power over me, and I don’t like it either. But really, do you think any counselling, of anybody, would be successful if the counsellor had no control over how hard … or gentle the counselling was?”  
Jean-Luc gave that some thought before replying, “No.” his response was gruff. “I suppose not.”  
“Then let’s just allow Deanna to do her job.” She softened the remark by adding, “She’s never let us down. Not once. Ever.”

Jean-Luc’s face crumpled in a grimace as unwanted memories surfaced. The Borg. Madred. It was true, without Deanna’s skill and determination, he might not have recovered from those ordeals.   
He looked up at his wife and silently acknowledged her role in helping him through those traumas. Fresh guilt and gratitude surged in him and he shook his head, momentarily robbed of speech.  
Beverly sensed his difficulties and waited patiently, knowing he would eventually offer her something. She was gratified when he said brokenly, “Deanna has indeed never let me down and without her I doubt I’d have recovered from those past atrocities. But you, my beloved Beverly. Without your help, here …” he gestured at his head and then continued as he placed his hand over his heart, “and here, I wouldn’t’ve recovered at all. I love you, mon coeur.”

Beverly offered a tender smile and said gently, “I know you do, Jean-Luc, and I love you. Just let Deanna do what she does so very well.” she implored quietly, and then added, “Please?”  
He nodded and for the first time, actually considered telling her what had happened to him. All of it. He was still wondering if he could do that when James broke his chain of thought with a quiet request for help in setting the table.  
Jean-Luc managed to keep the troubling thoughts at bay until well after dinner. The children were in bed and Deanna was due any minute. As the moment of her arrival approached, so his dread and fear rapidly escalated.  
He thought he was going to vomit when the door chimes sounded.

In all, Rurke had found and removed three devices in the female, apart from the false strands of hair on her head. One of the more carefully hidden devices was a tracker, embedded in the flesh just inside her anus and two others were recorders. He found one inside her mouth and the other secreted at the base of her skull.  
He had removed these devices and destroyed them with little trouble, the half-hearted protests from the female quickly and easily overcome with the offering of more cosmic dust.  
Rurke stood back and ran his eyes over the female. She was attractive and he slowly began to feel the early stirrings of desire. He was quite surprised as he’d not felt these sensations for a very long time. His total dedication to his work and the paucity of time had effectively curtailed any sexual desire in the viridian.

But now, as his eyes wandered over the small female, he recognised he had both the time and the need to satisfy himself. However, he would not rape.  
He stepped closer to her and she gave him a fearful look. Rurke idly wondered if she’d sensed his rising desire or saw it in his eyes. He dismissed these thoughts and briefly considered how to make his offer.  
“I have a proposition for you.” he began mildly.  
The female’s expression became wary. “I cannot turn against my handlers.” she said quietly. “They would find out and kill me.”  
Rurke nodded slowly, trying to appear sympathetic. “I’ve no doubt they would.” he said, but it was a somewhat chilly expression. “It’s what I’d do under the same circumstances.”  
“Then what’s your proposition?” she asked, a little bolder. 

The broker saw the beginnings of curiosity in the female. “Ah, there it is.” Rurke said to himself. “Avarice.” Out loud he adopted a relaxed tone. “I would like to have sex with you.”  
She may have given brief thought to the possibility he wanted sex but had just as quickly dismissed it. But as she watched the broker, she saw his interest in her and a shudder ran down her back.  
“I don’t know if we’re compatible. I’ve never fucked one like you.”  
“We are.” Rurke acknowledged, with a smile that was growing predatory as his desire heightened. “I would have to be gentle, though.” he sighed and gestured between them. “There is an issue with size. You are small.” he again gestured, this time to her crotch before gesturing to the same area of his body. “I am not.”

The female could easily see the sizable bulge already evident in Rurke’s trousers. She began to shake her head and back away. “No.” she said quietly. “I don’t like pain. I’m not into that.”  
The broker sighed, his patience wearing thin. If he couldn’t gain her consent, he’d either have to masturbate several times to relive his now aching cock or ignore it and suffer days of discomfort.   
It was an effort to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “I’ve already told you I’ll be gentle. And I’ll use plenty of lubricant.” He saw her shaking her head. She wasn’t going to give him consent. He smiled grimly and played his trump card. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Her expression changed immediately. Rurke sighed inwardly and thought, “Again, avarice. There is always something they want.”  
“You’ll make it worth my while?” she asked, the gleam of bargaining lighting her eyes. “How? With what?”  
Rurke shrugged. “I believe it’s customary to pay for sexual services with a portion of latinum. Perhaps half a bar?”  
“Half a bar?” she repeated incredulously. “Half?”  
The broker gave her a long look and shrugged again. “All right, one bar.”  
“No.” she made a cutting gesture with her hand. “Five bars.”  
The viridian lifted his head and laughed. She silenced him by adding, “And 500 grams of CD.”

Rurke knew exactly what he was doing. Now that she had established what she thought she could bargain with; he knew he’d get what he wanted. He stared at the female so long she began to slowly step backwards. He caught her attention by speaking so softly she had to come nearer to hear what he was saying.  
“I haven’t had sex for a very, very long time …” He sighed. “Far too many years. I’m going to want you to stay with me for at least the next two, possibly three days. And the nights, of course.”  
The female frowned and worry creased her brow. “How many times are you going to fuck me?”  
“I don’t know.” The broker shrugged. “As many times as I feel I need to.”  
He saw doubt in her eyes. “Six bars and 550 gm of CD.” he offered.

She licked her lips, but still she hesitated. “Only here?” she placed her hand on her crotch. “Not here?” She placed her other hand over her anal area.  
“I have no interest in putting my cock in your waste tube.” Rurke sighed. “But yes, in there…” he gestured to her crotch and then her mouth. “And in there.”  
He watched as she began to seriously consider the offer. Her eyes narrowed as another opportunity to bargain presented itself. “This size thing you mentioned.” She glanced at the bulge in his pants. “I know you said you’d be gentle and use lots of lube … but if you’re going to fuck me for days … I’m going to need some medical repairs afterwards.”  
Rurke made a show of sneering. “Very well, eight bars and 750 gm.”  
She smiled knowingly, feeling triumphant. “Ten bars and 1 kg.”  
Rurke gaped. He was a masterful actor. Before he could say anything, the female purred, “And I’ll make worth your while.” She then had the audacity to add, “But it’s going to hurt me when you fuck me, so I’ll need something to distract me … you know … for the pain…”

Rurke began to remove his clothing. “I’ll give you some CD every now and then.”  
“Not out of what you owe me.”  
“No. My stock.”  
It was the female’s turn to gape when she saw Rurke’s cock. He relished what he was about to say next. “But I don’t want you to be comatose. I want you aware enough to feel me.”  
“Feel you?” She asked, her mouth suddenly becoming dry.  
“Yes, feel me inside you. The sex act is at its best when shared. Now,” he said as he bent and retrieved the sachet of drug from his jacket pocket. “Snort this then lie on the floor and open your legs. Wide.”  
“Now? Here?” The female started to panic.

“We will move to a bed later.” He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed him as he moved to a replicator, keyed in his ID, and requested a large quantity of lube. He scowled as he turned to find her still standing, her eyes slightly glazed by the drug.  
“I told you to lie on the floor with your legs open. Don’t defy me, please.”  
His cold, menacing tone was enough to make the female comply. He was gentle and used copious amounts of lube, but she still screamed. There was only so much CD could do for the kind of pain she experienced.

Sally McCormack was waiting for Tom when he arrived at work. As he exited the public transporter, she linked her arm with his in an unwanted and over-familiar way. Somehow, he kept a straight face, hiding his irritation well, but he extricated his arm and moved further away as he walked briskly to the building.  
Sally covered a sneer with her hand, letting him see only her eyes, which she batted in an obvious attempt at coquettishness. Tom wasn’t all that successful and disguising his shudder. And he didn’t care.  
“So, how was your date with the crazy ice maiden?” She didn’t bother to hide her vindictive tone. Before Tom could respond, she offered a nasty smile and shook her head. “Though maiden might not be the right term for her, at least not from what I’ve heard.” A bark of laughter escaped. “Crazy though … oh yeah, she’s a crazy bitch, all right.”

There was enough curiosity in Tom for him to slow his pace and send Sally a speculative look. He hated himself for doing it, but he reasoned he could help Katya if he could find out what Sally thought she had on her. He didn’t bother to think much further than that. Justification for almost anything was easy enough to find without too much trouble. Or shame. Or guilt.  
On seeing the reaction in Tom, Sally’s grin became triumphant. She moved closer to Tom and again linked their arms. With her head inclined towards his, she encouraged him to keep walking. “Now this is all very hush-hush…” he could hear the glee in her voice. “A friend of a friend of mine is in Starfleet and he told me some very interesting things about Katya Kurnov.”  
“Like what?”  
Sally shrugged and made a show of inspecting her fingernails. “How badly do you want to know, Tom?”  
He frowned at her, wariness clouding his eyes. He shrugged and tried to appear disinterested.   
Sally giggled and bumped her shoulder against his. “Come on, Tom, don’t be coy. I’ll happily tell you all you want to know, but I want something in return.”  
“I’ve already said it.” Tom sighed while rolling his eyes. “Like what?”

The woman’s eyes hardened. She hated it when her targets played hard to get. “Ok, I’ll give you a little teaser. Our Ms. Kurnov came to us with a glowing reference from Starfleet. Now, I found it incredible that one as young as her could’ve possibly gained that much knowledge about WDs in the space of time she was in the ‘fleet. So, I did some quiet digging.”  
When Tom remained silent, Sally rolled her eyes. “Turns out she got some personal assistance…” at this Sally winked grotesquely, “from none other than Captain Jean-Luc fucking Picard himself.”  
Growing tired of the woman’s snide attitude, Tom shook his head. “So what? I’ve seen for myself how brilliant she is. If Picard recognised that too, it makes sense he’d do what he could to help her. After all, helping Katya in her field eventually helps the ‘fleet, and that, in turn, helps all of us”

“Oh, how noble!” Sally spat waspishly. “So fucking Picard on a regular basis is her way of gaining help? Or perhaps it’s his reward for fostering her career?” She flapped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Grow up, Tom … or maybe grow a pair.”  
Her expression grew cold and nasty. “You might like to ask little princess Katya about the terminations.” She winked again. “Note, terminations. Plural. And all of them Picard’s little bastards.”  
Having dropped her bombshell, Sally disengaged her arm and stalked off, angry with herself for imparting nearly all of her juicy gossip without getting what she wanted from Tom. She had set her sights on seducing him. She’d now have to find another way. Maybe her uncle would help. He’d always done so in the past. Many times, in fact.  
Sally conveniently ignored what she had to do for her uncle to show her appreciation for his help. No, those thoughts were too distasteful. Best to leave them in the deep, hidden parts of her mind.

Deanna knew well before she reached the Picards’ quarters that her captain was in a very distressed mental state. She was as prepared as she could be when she was admitted into the quarters, but her mental barriers took a terrible battering. Beverly sent her a look of concern as she struggled to find a workable balance. She had to keep some protection active for her psyche and yet remain open enough to help her patients, especially her CO.  
It took several moments for the counsellor to achieve this, but it was a precarious state at best. Jean-Luc, oblivious to her mental tussle, was mounting his own fight against increasing panic. Sweat beaded his brow and nausea made his stomach churn.  
Deanna spoke three times before he finally heard her.  
“Captain!” she said loudly.

He glanced up to see both Deanna and Beverly giving him alarmed looks. He dredged up a sickly smile and said, as patted his midriff. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted. Must’ve eaten something … or picked up some kind of stomach bug…”   
His greenish pallor was worrying Beverly, but,having seen the surreptitious shake of Deanna’s head, resisted the urge to scan him.  
“I’m not sensing those kinds of feelings from you, Captain. I’m sensing fear, dread, and panic.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee. She felt his body trembling. “What is it? What’s caused this? I’ve been sensing a melange of distressing emotions from you since your recent traumas, Captain, but nothing as potent … or as specific as what you’re experiencing now.”  
“Counsellor …” his husky, deep voice suddenly broke. He took a shuddering breath and tried again. “Deanna … I’m having a bit of trouble …”

He got no further. He left his seat abruptly with his mouth clamped shut and bolted for the bathroom, only just making it to the toilet before he vomited repeatedly. Beverly found him kneeling at the bowl, quietly weeping.  
He felt her hand gently rubbing his back and was comforted, but when he heard Deanna’s voice from the doorway he grimaced in shame.  
“Please.” he whispered raggedly. “Can’t you give me some time … some fucking privacy…”  
Though he heard the deep regret and sorrow in her voice as she replied, he still resented her for what she said. In fact, at that moment, he hated her.  
“Giving you time isn’t going to help, Captain. If anything, based on what I’ve seen so far, giving you time to be honest with me has been detrimental.”

He turned his head and managed to summon a glare. “And yet you insisted all we needed was time.” His accusatory and mocking tone was ignored.  
“It’s true that time will help you heal, Captain, in a fashion, but if you won’t be honest with me, if you continue to refuse to tell me about those things you find so devastating, if you deny that you can be helped, then no amount of time will heal you in such a way that you have any hope of recovering yourself. You might find a way to function, you might achieve a semblance of your old self, but it’ll be a parody of what you once enjoyed.”  
Deanna sighed and brushed away a tear. “And, of course, your family … Beverly and your children, will have to learn to live with this new version of you. That’s if they can.”  
Deanna withdrew to wait in the living area. Beverly stared down at her husband and shook her head. “I know you were sexually assaulted, Jean-Luc. I’d’ve had to’ve been fucking blind not to see the evidence.” She rose to her feet and rubbed her tears away. “You can stay in here and hide, or you can find the courage to go back to your seat and face your demons.” She sighed, but her tone had become bleak. “I guess what it comes down to is how highly you value the life you have with us. With me and our children.”

Will nodded and gave a quiet acknowledgement as the officer at the conn informed him that they had entered the Sol system. He issued the necessary orders to reduce speed to ½ impulse power and then instructed the tactical officer to make contact with McKinley station.  
The quiet efficiency of the bridge pleased Will, as did the growing feelings of happy anticipation that pervaded the ship’s atmosphere. The Enterprise was nearly home.  
He was expecting a call from Command and he smiled grimly when it came. He directed the call to the ready room and seated himself at the desk. Once he’d composed himself, he opened the channel.  
The Jinj’Le captain offered the same cool expression that Will had encountered the first time the captain being had contacted him. Will summoned a benign face and greeted the male respectfully. “Captain Geir.”  
“Commander Riker.” The reply was bland, but the being’s orange eyes glittered. There was no way to tell what emotion was behind them, though Will was aware this species was naturally belligerent.  
“I see the Enterprise is due to dock at McKinley.” Geir observed. “Once your ship’s docked, report to Command. It’s time we had a chat.”  
“Yes, sir.” Will nodded. “May I ask what this chat will be about?”

The smile that appeared on Geir’s face was cold. “No, Commander, you may not.”   
There was no opportunity to say anything further as Geir terminated the channel. Will sat back and glared at the screen, now innocuously displaying the Starfleet logo. “Prick.” he muttered heatedly. He then sighed, defeated by the inevitability of both the summons and his reaction to it.  
“Sometimes…” he sighed, saying bitterly, “Sometimes I just want to tell them all to simply fuck off.”  
As he rose to his feet, he shook his head. “Not that anyone would hear me.” he lamented, but then qualified, “Unless, of course, they wanted to drag me over the coals for saying it.”  
Will exited the ready room and was immediately informed, “Captain? We’ve received docking instructions, sir. We’re lined up and are awaiting your orders.”  
“Take her in, Lieutenant, then give the computer the conn. for the actual docking.”  
“Aye, sir.”

Rurke’s eyes were slitted as he watched his fingers run gently up and down the female’s midriff. She opened her eyes and tears formed as she shook her head.  
He sighed and carefully cupped her genitals with his hand. “No.” he said quietly. “No more fucking.”  
A soft sob escaped the female making Rurke sigh. “You have done well, and I will reward you appropriately.”  
That caught her attention and she sniffed wetly, though she said nothing. The broker smiled. “You will receive 1.5 kg of CD and 15 bars.” He glanced down at their bodies and the stained bedding. “You’ve endured and satisfied me. I appreciate what you’ve gone through … it cannot have been easy.”  
“No,” she whispered. “it wasn’t.”

Rurke switched tracks. “What will you tell your handlers?”  
The female shrugged, momentarily confused by the question. Rurke elaborated. “You will have been seen talking to me, and your absence will’ve been noted.” He smiled grimly. “And the devices I removed. They’ll be aware they no longer transmit. No doubt you’ll be questioned. What are you going to say?”  
By the sudden panicked expression on the female’s face, Rurke saw she’d not considered this. Her eyes, which had been perpetually glazed during her ordeal, cleared. “They’ll kill me!” she blurted.  
Rurke sighed fatalistically. “Not if you tell them the truth … with some … embellishments.”  
“Embellishments?”

“Yes.” Rurke replied patiently. “Tell them I transported you aboard my ship then scanned you and removed the devices. Then…” he grinned. “tell them I kept you captive and repeatedly raped you. Tell them I kept you as a sexual slave, but you eventually convinced me to let you go.”  
The female gave him a frankly disbelieving look. “Kept for two, three days? No, they’d never believe it.”  
Rurke’s expression was closed as he said quietly, “You’ve been with me for five days. Hence your added recompence.”  
“Five days!” The female gasped. “Five? And four nights?”

Again, Rurke glanced at the soiled bedding. “Yes. We eventually made it to my bed…” He sighed and grimaced at the state of the bedding. Blood and bodily fluids were present as either sticky, of stiff matter that covered their bodies as well. The female had dried blood and semen around her mouth and genitals. Rurke grimaced slightly when he glanced at the same matter around his genitals.  
“It would seem my needs exceeded my estimate of the time required to satiate them.” he smiled again. “But I am pleased with your efforts. You performed above my expectations, and for that, I thank you.”  
“Your thanks won’t protect me.” The female replied bitterly.  
The viridian shrugged. “Once I’ve cleaned you, I intend to leave you at any medical facility you nominate. I will make sure there is enough latinum deposited for you to receive the best treatment, and you may keep any balance.”  
Her smile and tone were sardonic as she replied, “That’s great, but that won’t stop my handlers from interrogating me.”  
“Then use the excuse I gave you.” Rurke managed to hide his irritation. He appreciated what the female had endured for him, but now it was over he was keen to distance himself from the entire situation.  
Once again, he changed the focus. “What will you do with your payment?”

The female blinked slowly as she reoriented her thinking. “You said 1.5 kg of CD and 15 bars of latinum?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, with 1.5 kg of CD, I’ll be set for years. And 15 bars? I can afford better accommodation. Maybe even a suite…” She then shook her head. “But wait.” Her eyes lit up. “If I sold some of the CD, I could keep the bars. I can pay off my debts and get out of the grind, while keeping enough to supply my lifestyle.”  
Rurke sighed. “You’ll have to think about this very carefully. Whatever you decide will dictate how your life will proceed. If you get it wrong, your lifespan will be noticeably short.”  
“No. I’ll be alright.” She grinned confidently. It afforded a macabre visage. “If I can fob off my handlers with your story, I’ll be free to enjoy the fruits of my endurance.”  
“Very well.” Rurke sighed fatalistically. “What medical facility do you wish me to transport you to?”

“I have one in mind.” The female grinned as she told him. Rurke wasn’t surprised by her choice. It was the premier facility on the planet.  
Rurke knew the female was doomed. “You’ll last one, perhaps two days.” He speculated silently. “Your underestimation of your handler’s reach will cause your demise. That or your appetite for cosmic dust.”  
The female simply smiled riantly, oblivious. Rurke shrugged inwardly. “So be it.” He mused silently. “If you don’t … or won’t, accept advice, it’s hardly my fault you suffer the consequences.”  
He instructed her to stay in the bed as he cleaned himself thoroughly. He then returned and escorted her to the bathroom. She baulked once when he informed her of just how invasive his cleaning of her body would be, but she eventually acquiesced, giving a carefree shrug as she snorted some offered CD. Rurke hid his grim smile.

Jean-Luc turned his bloodshot eyes on the counsellor, wishing uselessly that he could make her vanish. Her calm, stoic attitude infuriated him, but he recognised the inappropriateness and futility of his emotions.  
They were seated in the living area. He turned his gaze on his wife and ignored the fact he was still weeping. “What you said is true.” he said softly and raggedly.  
When he said nothing further, Beverly sighed and ran her fingertips down his face. “Tell us what happened.”  
More tears flowed as Jean-Luc bowed his head. “Twenth and Lannit Yan. They raped me. They raped me over and over … anally and orally.”  
Beverly wiped at her own tears and moved closer to wrap her husband in her arms. Deanna allowed a moment or two before saying quietly, “What else did they do to you?”  
“They beat me, and they raped me with implements … they performed oral sex on me.” He took a shuddering breath and whispered, “I tried to die, but I didn’t.”  
Deanna’s focus sharpened. “You tried to kill yourself? How?”

Jean-Luc shook his head slowly and shuddered through another shaky breath. “No. I didn’t try to kill myself, Counsellor. I tried to die. There’s a difference.”  
Beverly pulled away a little and frowned. “If there’s a difference, I can’t see it.”  
Jean-Luc lifted his head and used his hands to scrub his face. He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. He looked at his wife and gave her a sad smile. “If I’d wanted to kill myself, that is take an active rolel in doing whatever was required to achieve that, I’ve no doubt I’d’ve succeeded. But…” he sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t do that. I simply told myself I was going to die. I lay on the floor in a semi-conscious state and tried to will my mind, my body, to just stop. To cease living.”

“And it didn’t.” Deanna sighed; her pity and sadness clear in her voice.  
Jean-Luc shrugged. “It’s moot anyway. Twenth noticed what I was trying to do and decided a good kicking would dissuade me. Turns out he was right.”  
“How so?” Beverly asked.  
“I’d given up, Beverly. I couldn’t take it any longer, hence my attempt to make myself die. But in the wake of that kicking, that assault, a spark of defiance took hold. It grew.” This time his smile was a little stronger. “It became strong enough to keep me alive.”  
“Captain,” Deanna said quietly, “how do you view what happened to you?”  
Jean-Luc tilted his head and frowned. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

Deanna debated whether he was being deliberately evasive but dismissed the thought as quickly as it’d appeared. “Well,” she said carefully. “Do you think, perhaps, that you deserved what they did to you?”  
“Because of what I did to Beverly and Katya?” Jean-Luc sighed and shook his head. “I have to admit there is an element of righteous punishment, Counsellor. Even knowing I had no control over my actions, it’s hard to not acknowledge that we were in that place, in the hands of those despicable beings because my intransigence delayed our departure.”  
“We’ve been over that, Captain.” Deanna said firmly.  
“Yes.” Beverly agreed. “Context, Jean-Luc. The only ones to blame, the ones who caused everything that happened to us were Twenth and Lannit Yan.”  
“Those beings were terribly cruel, Captain.” Deanna said quietly. “Rape is an atrocious crime and it’s usually perpetrated as a gesture of power, rather than a purely sexual act. But those two males had a deadly and perversely warped mindset. Not only did they enjoy the absolute power they had over you, but they also enjoyed what they did to you on a uniquely potent sexual level. Sexual sadism isn’t uncommon, but the level of violence those two enjoyed made them terribly dangerous to anyone they encountered. I consider it a positive thing that Twenth is dead.”

Beverly’s eyebrows rose in surprise. It was most unlike Deanna to condone or approve the death of a sentient being. The counsellor was aware of how Twenth had died and she decided to see what her captain felt about that death.  
“You made the weapons that Beverly used to kill Twenth, didn’t you, Captain?”  
“Yes.” He shrugged and then elaborated. “As my determination to survive grew, I began to consider how we might be able to effect an escape. I was fortunate that Twenth had been sloppy in not making sure my manacles had been retightened and it allowed me to get my hands free.  
“I knew I wasn’t physically well enough to mount any kind of assault, but when I saw the discarded and empty water bottles, I had an idea.” He smiled grimly.  
“It was just lucky that the bottles were made of the older polymer.”  
The doctor nodded and offered a grim smile. “It wasn’t luck that you not only remembered the report you’d read from so many years ago and that you knew how to cause the chemical reaction.” Beverly said to her husband, her gentle praise lifting his spirits.  
He shrugged self-depreciatingly. “Sometimes things just fall into place.”  
Deanna smiled and gave her captain a look that clearly carried her admiration. “Given all that had gone before, I can’t help but think that, by your own actions, you went a long way towards redressing any perceived imbalance in what you see as deserved punishment.”

“Perhaps.” Jean-Luc conceded.  
“So how do you feel about Twenth’s death?”  
He didn’t bother to ask for clarification of the question. He knew precisely what she was asking. “I felt cheated.” he replied gruffly. He then sighed and briefly closed his eyes. “However, it’s fitting that it was Beverly who killed him. Certainly, if not me, then either Beverly or Katya had the right, after what he’d done to them … through me.”  
“But you felt cheated?” Deanna pressed.  
“Yes!” Jean-Luc snapped. “I saw him lying there and I wanted to … I wanted to…”  
“You wanted to what?”  
“I wanted to hurt him, like he hurt me!” A sob was torn from the tormented man. “I wanted to kick him … I wanted to shove things inside him … I wanted to HURT him!”  
“But you couldn’t.”

“No.” Jean-Luc whispered. “No, I couldn’t.” He took a shuddering breath. “Do you know, Counsellor, I thought about pissing on his body.” He sighed and shook his head. “How pathetic is that?”  
“It’s not pathetic, Captain, it’s perfectly understandable. You were denied any retribution. Discounting delivering physical violence on him, you didn’t even have the satisfaction of seeing him charged and brought before a court to answer for what he did to you, Beverly, Katya and no doubt many others.”  
“I understand what you’re saying, Deanna, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. That feeling of being cheated remains like a chancre, eating away at me. I want a resolution that I can’t achieve, at least not yet.”  
“Meaning?”  
“If Lannit Yan is caught, then perhaps I might be able to find some peace with my darker emotions through seeing him answer for what was done to us.”  
Deanna’s expression was bland, but inside she was worried. “Perhaps, but I think pinning everything on the capture of Lannit Yan is a bad idea, Captain.”  
“Why?”  
“What happens if he isn’t captured?” Deanna answered. “What happens if he escapes … or is killed before he’s captured?” 

Jean-Luc’s expression was frightening. “Dead, he represents no further threat!”  
“Yes, but dead, he never faces punishment for what he’s done.”  
Jean-Luc’s silence, his lack of any response, was deeply troubling. Beverly took his hand and gained his attention. “What would that do to you, Jean-Luc. It was bad enough that Twenth died without any action on your part. What happens to you if Lannit Yan either escapes, or is killed before he can be tried?”  
“I don’t know!” he shouted. “I can’t answer those questions.”  
“The pity is they’re asked.” Deanna said quietly. “But they can’t be avoided, Captain. You have to find a way to be able to deal with this, should it occur. And it’s my job to prepare you for that scenario.”  
He turned his troubled gaze on Deanna, and she watched as his jaw muscles clenched rhythmically. His voice was deep and calm, yet disturbingly cold as he said quietly, “Then I fear we’re in for a torrid time, Counsellor. There’s nothing I’d like more than see him pay for what he’s done. And if I can have any input towards that, in any way, then all the better.”

“He’s not willing to entertain the thought that Lannit Yan might not ever pay.” Deanna mused silently and worriedly. She sent a quick look at Beverly and saw she had reached the same conclusion. “There’s more to this.” Deanna sighed inwardly. “He’s not told us everything. Not yet, anyway.”  
She brought the session to a close and advised the couple to take some time to recover a little before trying to sleep. However, Deanna doubted either person would find any rest.

Tom was deep in thought as he left the locker room and made his way to the lab. He paused before the ID scanner and, before submitting to the scan, he quietly queried the computer about the lab’s occupants. He wasn’t surprised that Katya was already at her station, she tended to work long hours. The three techs were standard as well.  
He sighed and a worried frown appeared. “I thought she worked so hard because she was so involved in her research. But maybe she’s trying to forget … put what happened behind her? Blank it out with intense study?”  
An irritated grunt exploded from his mouth as his expression soured. “Fucking Sally McCormack! That’s the trouble with people like her. They infect everyone around them with the same shitty view of everything.”  
He allowed the scan and the door sighed open. The techs sent a smile as he entered. Katya offered him no acknowledgement.  
In the back of Tom’s mind, a malevolent thought persisted. He’d tried to dismiss it, he’d tried to insist it wasn’t true, but Sally McCormack had successfully planted this seed and it was beginning to grow. It remained to be seen if it ever bore fruit.

Two hundred and eighty metres away and in a separate building, Sally McCormack was kneeling between her seated uncle’s legs. In his tastefully appointed office, the lights were subtly dimmed. She gazed up at him steadily and gave her standard sulky/pouty look.  
“I really like him.” she mewed. “He just needs some encouragement, you know, a little push from the big boss to see how advantageous it’d be for his career to be my boyfriend.”  
Her uncle’s expression remained closed, but as his niece’s fingers trailed up and down the insides of his thighs, the light of lust lit a spark in his eyes.  
“You always were such a tease, Sally.” He sighed and shifted slightly to accommodate his growing erection. “Even when you were little.”  
“Yes.” Sally winked and raised one eyebrow. “Back when you taught me how to play the special games.”

She dragged her fingernails over his bulging crotch, and he managed a cold smile. “And just what happens when you tire of this new boyfriend? Hmm? What then?”  
The woman shrugged and pouted. It made her uncle sneer derisively. “He’s just the latest in a long line, Sally.”  
Meanness made her eyes glitter and she shrugged again. “They’re plenty of jobs for WD specialists, uncle. He’d have no trouble finding one somewhere else.”  
“And I’d lose another damned good WD specialist.” He watched intently as Sally undid his belt and fly. She reached in and began to free his cock from his underwear. She gasped as he suddenly grabbed her wrist and squeezed hard enough to make her whimper.

“All right, I’ll do it, Sally, but I’m going to want more than a blow job.”  
She tried to keep her dismay from showing. Years of experience had taught her that any show of fear, dread, or pain only inflamed her uncle and made the entire episode more protracted and painful. But he too had many year’s experience in watching and successfully interpreting his niece’s every gesture and nuance.  
He grinned triumphantly as he quietly depressed a button and locked his office door. The room was already sound-proofed. Yes, he’d make it clear to this latest target of Sally’s that it would in his best interests to date and fuck his niece, but she would pay well for his help.

Will stood in Geir’s outer office, idly speculating whether it was the captain’s inherent nature to assert his dominance with such an obvious ploy, or whether the Jinj’Le had a genuine reason for keeping him waiting.  
Either way, it was moot. Will sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “He outranks me.” The big man acknowledged pragmatically. “He can do whatever he wants, play any game he desires to reinforce his superiority. It’s not like I can do anything about it.”  
Just then the office door opened and Geir beckoned Will to enter. The commander was mildly surprised when he was offered a seat. He’d assumed he’d be standing at attention and then, grudgingly, permitted to stand at parade rest.  
Geir glanced down at a PADD on his desktop and frowned. He turned it and slid it the short distance across to Will. He picked it up and kept his expression neutral as Geir said quietly, “That’s Rurke?”  
Will was puzzled. The entire exchange with the broker had been recorded by the Enterprise’s computers. Command had already viewed and minutely dissected every second of it. Why was the captain couching the identification as a question?  
“Yes, sir.” He confirmed at seeing the displayed image. “That’s Rurke.”

“Interesting.”  
The big human tilted his head, trying to feel his way though this confusing situation. “Why, sir? Why is that interesting?”  
Geir held Will’s eyes and seemed to come to a decision. “Because, that,” he stabbed his finger at the image on the PADD. “was taken only a few days ago. He was seen gathering intel from someone he thought could help him in his current endeavours.”  
Geir grunted and shook his head. “He was right to be cautious, but he was quite wrong about who he thought were his enemies … or to be more precise, his competition.”  
“Competition.” Will repeated cautiously.  
“Yes, Commander. Rurke is trying to track down Lannit Yan.” The captain scowled. “And of course, so are we. Unfortunately, the contact Rurke was questioning is one of ours.”  
“Oh, shit.” Will murmured. He looked up to see the Jinj’Le giving him a disapproving look. But before Will could offer any apology, Geir waved it away.   
“The problem is far greater than a being like Rurke interrogating one of our operatives. The broker has taken her.”  
“Abducted her?”

“Seems so. He’s got a vessel in orbit of the planet.” Geir gave Will a long look and then remarked sarcastically, “But you know about his vessel, it’s the one you failed to keep when you had the chance.”   
Wisely, Will didn’t rise to the bait, causing a mildly disappointed Geir to continue. “We can’t scan it, so we think that’s where he … they are. In any case, we’ve found nothing to suggest he’s left the planet by any other means.”  
Will nodded slowly, his mind quickly forming different strategies. He looked up and asked, “How long has he had her?”  
“Five days.”  
Will winced and shook his head. “That’s a long time to be held by someone like Rurke.”  
“True enough, but I feel I should point out that Rurke’s never come to our attention as being perversely cruel. Yes, he can be brutal, and lethal when required, but our intel suggests he’s more likely to use his skills in retributive ways. In a nutshell, when required he does and torture and kill, but if you’re a bad guy, it’s going to go very badly for you in his hands.”

“And Lannit Yan is about as bad as they get.” Will muttered.  
“Indeed. And if you add that Lannit’s done the dirty with his employer, well, if Rurke ever catches him it’s going to be a very long, and exceedingly painful death for that sick fucker.”  
Geir’s choice of language pleased Will, it mirrored his own when describing Lannit Yan. The captain went up a notch in Will’s estimation. He pushed that aside and asked, “Lannit Yan has done the dirty? How? In what way?”  
Geir scowled and shook his head. “It would seem that Lannit has slipped his leash. Not only that, but he’s managed to stash his cargo, one that his, and Rurke’s employer, made very painstaking efforts to secure.”  
“Ah.” Will nodded. “So, the employer has had his nose bent out of shape.”  
“Oh, yes.” Geir smiled wolfishly. “And I’ve no doubt Rurke’s been given very explicit instructions as to how Lannit’s punishment is to be delivered.”

Will devoted some thought to that before asking, “The employer.” he said quietly. “The Tholian?”  
Geir retrieved the PADD and called up some different information. He slid the device back to Will. “Everything we know, which isn’t much, is there.”  
Will scrolled quickly and as he did, a frown appeared and quickly deepened. “No images?” he glanced up, then returned his focus to the screen.  
“No.” Geir’s simmering anger was clear in his reply.  
A tense silence followed before the captain sighed and managed to quieten his angst. “You have a new mission, Commander. Find Rurke, and in doing so, find Lannit Yan. Because if you can achieve those two things, you may have an exceptionally good chance to find, and then eliminate the Tholian.”

Will was aware of the delicate political situation this would expose the Federation to. He put the PADD down and looked Geir in the eye. “And I take it this isn’t on the books?”  
“No.” Geir sneered and made a cutting gesture. “Everything you do, every move you make, has to be invisible to prying eyes. If you’re discovered, you, your ship, and her crew will be considered expendable.” The captain’s stare was uncompromising. “The Federation and Starfleet Command, will disavow you.”  
Will’s expression was closed. “Okay, I get that, but how can eliminating the Tholian attract such a potentially high price? Starfleet can ill afford to lose a ship like the Enterprise, not to mention her crew.”  
Geir smiled grimly. “The fact that we are willing to risk you all, and your ship, is all you need to know, Commander. It’s that important the Tholian is removed. But quietly.”  
Will ran a hand through his beard and studied the Jinj’Le. He decided there was more. “So, do we have any aces up our sleeve?”  
The captain’s expression became predatory. “Indeed, you do.”

When Will simply raised his eyebrows, Geir grinned coldly. “You have Jean-Luc Picard.”  
Alarm skittered across Will’s face. Geir saw it and lifted a hand. “Yes, he’s going to be offered as bait.”   
The words, issued so coldly, had Will rise to his feet, his fists tightly clenched and anger flashing in his eyes. Geir watched with anticipatory glee, more than happy at the thought of a physical confrontation with the big human.  
There was a highly charged moment when everything seemed to slow down. The two males studied each other, assessing each other’s capabilities. It was Will who asserted control first. He straightened and made a concerted effort to relax his tensed muscles. There followed a couple of deep breaths, but he calmed enough to retake his seat.   
The Jinj’Le frowned, disappointed that the commander had backed away from the confrontation. The captain did, however, admit to himself that the human had displayed commendable good sense. Sometimes it took as much courage to back down as it did to fight.

Having gathered his thoughts, Will asked quietly, “How much protection can I give him?”  
Geir sat back and rotated his shoulders as he considered the question. “Given that your mission must be undertaken so clandestinely, any overt actions to protect Picard would surely jeopardise any chance you have of remaining under the radar.”  
Will’s jaw muscles bulged as he gritted his teeth in an effort of continued control over his temper. “I understand the need for secrecy, sir. But Captain Picard has been through so much recently, as has his wife, their children and former ensign Kurnov. I also understand why he would be such a very good bait to use.” Will sighed. “But, with respect, sir, I can’t stand by and do nothing if he or his family are threatened.”  
Geir’s orange eyes glittered but he summoned a small smile. “I didn’t say you should.” On seeing Will’s dubious look, Geir clarified. “All I said was that you have to keep in mind the secrecy of your mission. If Picard or his family are threatened and you can help without compromising your mission, then by all means, do so.”

Will sat back and gave the captain’s words some consideration.  
The captain refocussed on Will as he said, “Neither Starfleet nor the Federation is going to offer Picard up as some kind of sacrificial lamb, Commander. We all acknowledge what he has given through his long service and the enormous value he holds as a superlative captain, explorer and diplomat.”  
The Jinj’Le sighed and, for the first time, he showed genuine sorrow. “No one wants to do this, Will. But the opportunity that’s come about because of what’s happened to Picard recently simply can’t be ignored.”  
Will’s posture slumped as he conceded the point. His voice was soft as he muttered, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”  
“That’s basically true.” Geir sighed again. “And yet sometimes the price that may be paid is manifestly unfair.”

A sombre silence followed before Geir spoke in a more normal voice. “The Enterprise will leave in five days, Commander. There’s no need to give any updates on your mission, we’ll be keeping a very close eye on you.”  
The dismissal was subtle, but obvious. Will nodded and rose before giving the captain a respectful nod. “Thank you, sir.”  
As he turned to exit the office, he stopped as Geir placed his hand on Will’s shoulder and said quietly, “Good luck, Will. Do what you must to get this done and bring everyone home safe.”  
Will nodded and, on impulse, offered his right hand. Geir took it and the men shook hands. As Geir watched Will leave he fervently wished he was accompanying him.

It had been a long day for Katya. As usual she’d worked well past her knockoff time and, on a whim, had decided to have a late dinner in the company cafeteria. She was studying a PADD when she became aware of someone standing nearby. She glanced up, a cold, unwelcoming expression on her face, but on seeing Tom, her expression softened a little.  
“Tom.” she said greeted him blandly. “What are you doing here at this hour?”  
The man shrugged and gestured to the unoccupied seat at Katya’s table. She nodded, noticing he had a plate of food. “I could ask you the same thing.” he replied quietly.  
Katya shrugged and put the PADD down before giving her now cold food a leery look. Tom smiled and offered, “Want me to get you something fresh?”  
“No.” Katya summoned a smile. “I’m not really hungry.”

Tom nodded, showing his understanding. “Yeah, I know how that feels. After a long day crunching numbers and physics, sometimes all I want to do is chill out.”  
He reached out and, without warning, took the PADD. Katya gasped as he quipped. “So, what brilliant idea are you working on?”  
She saw it was too late to snatch the PADD back when she saw his eyes widen. At first, he’d been confused by what he saw, but then he offered a concerned look.  
“Katya?” he asked worriedly. “Are you ok?”  
She retrieved the PADD belatedly and frowned as colour rose on her face. “I’m fine!” she snapped, angry and appalled.  
“But…” Tom floundered to find the right words. “You’re researching gynecologists?” Unfortunately, the malevolent seed in his mind began to bloom. He suddenly realised why she might require the services of such a specialist.  
Katya glowered at her friend and colleague. “I’m just trying to find a new one.” she blurted. “I’m not from around here.”

“Yeah, but…” He saw the furious look on Katya’s face and quickly decided to let the matter go. He held up a hand and smiled. “Hey, no problem. Totally your business, not mine.”  
Katya rose and gathered her things. “Goodnight, Tom.” she said curtly as she left.  
Tom watched her leave and squinted. “So, the terminations caused some damage?” he mused. “Maybe Sally was right after all.”  
The seed in his mind began to grow further and began to form fruit.

Deanna had been seated at her desk, deep in thought, for over half an hour. She’d found meditation immensely helpful over the years and her present difficulties had caused her to seek the mental balance that she’d found by using the technique in the past. She frowned as the calm mindset she sought eluded her yet again.  
Every time she tried to clear her mind; thoughts came unbidden to clutter her thinking processes. And these intrusive thoughts had a common thread. The Picard family and their difficulties. She sighed and pushed her chair away from the desk in a burst of frustration. She was due to see Beverly and Jean-Luc soon and she knew she needed strength, both clinical and emotional, to be able to help them.  
Deciding that there was little point in trying to find any kind of inner balance, she left her quarters and headed for what she felt was going to be a difficult counselling session.  
“How do I get the captain to accept that his abuser may never be caught, that he may never be held accountable for what he did, when the captain is so determined to have a hand in apprehending him?” Deanna thought grimly. “If he can’t … or won’t … even consider the possibility of Lannit Yan never paying for his crimes, then if that does actually happen, it’ll destroy him.” She sighed but was struck by another unsettling thought. “And yet, accepting the idea that Lannit Yan may never pay could be just as debilitating. It could cause further depression. At least now the captain has a focus … something to drive him.”

She was still mulling over the problem when she realised she’d reached her destination. She was about to press the chime when she hesitated, her eyes drawn to the quarter’s ID plaque. Where once it had informed the occupant was Captain Jean-Luc Picard, now it said the quarters were those of the captain and Doctor Beverly Picard.   
A small smile graced Deanna’s face as she gave momentary thought to how long it had taken for the couple to finally come together. “No.” she corrected herself. “The captain always knew, he waited.” Deanna’s next sigh was almost sad. “What patience he possesses. To wait for so long for the woman he loved. And with no guarantee his patience would ever be rewarded.”  
The counsellor gasped as the spark of realisation went off in her mind. “I think I can use that. If I can embroider that patience and resolve into his thinking, perhaps we might just find a way for him to achieve a balance between the two extremes. Between hungering to see Lannit Yan pay or accepting he may not.”  
When Deanna pressed the chime, she did so with growing confidence.

Two days after Tom’s encounter with Katya in the cafeteria, he’d been summoned to the boss’s office. As he walked through the manicured gardens that separated the administration wing from the technical buildings, he gave some thought as to why he’d been called. Tom doubted it was work related. He was doing his job well and some of his designs had proved very profitable for the company, but he’d developed nothing outstanding. Yet.   
The specialists were largely left unhindered by the administration. Provided as long as the monthly reports came in on time and that favourable technical results were achieved regularly, it was a case of non-interference by the owner.  
It made for particularly good working conditions. The specialists had free accommodation, and while at work, free meals. All in all, a great place to work. That left a rather unpalatable possibility for the summons. Sally McCormack.   
Once out of the bright sunshine, Tom had to blink a few times for his implanted synthetic eye lenses he used to correct his vision to adjust. It was cool in the foyer and, as he strode to the front desk, he thought he detected the smell of daphne.  
The source of the aroma became evident when he spotted a small posy of it on the attendant’s desk. Tom offered a smile and the young man nodded. “Dr. Chalmers. Thank you for coming over. Mr. McCormack is waiting for you. Take the lift to the top floor, he’ll meet you.”

The building was only three storeys high, but the entire top floor was given over to the executive suites. The south facing side, the one with a beautiful view of the ocean was Sally’s uncle’s suite.  
As he’d been advised, the boss was there to greet Tom as the lift doors opened.  
“Dr. Chalmers.” The man said warmly. “Please, come with me.”  
Tom had only been in the office once and that was when he was being interviewed for his job. He’d already been accepted, but Carl McCormack prided himself in his ability to personally judge a person’s character.   
He felt he’d made a good choice in Tom, not only as a WD specialist, but that he could possibly be manipulated. Not that McCormack had thought he needed to be, but it was handy to know should it become necessary. Like now.  
The men seated themselves with some replicated drinks. McCormack’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he said. “I’m hearing good things about you, Tom.” His smile widened. “I can call you Tom?”  
The specialist nodded. “Yes, of course, Mr. McCormack.” Tom noticed there was no invitation to use the boss’s given name.  
“Good.” McCormack took a sip of his drink. “I was thinking how warp dynamics is such a broad ranging field. I mean, look at what’s being achieved … and the scope for advancement in the future.”  
“Hmm.” Tom thought wryly. “Now just what, exactly, are you referring to? The advancement of WD itself, or those who work in the field?” Outwardly, Tom smiled and nodded, saying blandly, “Yes, absolutely.”  
“Yes. So, you can see that with an influential sponsor, a WD specialist could be the recipient of grants … private funding…” McCormack shrugged and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “The potential is huge. For the right person.” It was a cryptic statement, but Tom heard the subtext.

“A sponsorship?” he wondered warily and silently. “Really?”  
The smug, yet enthusiastic smile of his boss enforced Tom’s suspicions. His recent interaction with Sally rose in his mind and he grimaced inwardly. It seemed he we were going to have to pay a price for his contact with the avaricious woman.  
Tom was sure now. In order to have any chance at receiving the sponsorship being obliquely dangled in front of him, Tom was going to have to pay a hefty price. Namely, give his body, if not his soul, to Sally.   
There was no way Tom was going to protest. In fact, he doubted McCormack would even recognise it if he did. So, with a terrible sinking feeling, Tom plastered a smile on his face and did his best to look enthusiastic.  
“Wow, Mr. McCormack, are you saying I’m being considered?”  
McCormack barely hid his smug satisfaction. “Most definitely. You’ve provided some great results over the past 12 months, Tom. If the next 12 months are as successful, then I’m sure a sponsorship will come your way. After all,” McCormack offered, a cool glint in his eyes, “you’ve been working in this field for some years now. A man your age can’t let the grass grow too long under his feet, eh?””  
It was difficult for Tom to hide his irritation. At 32, he certainly wasn’t old. Still, a sponsorship, especially one from GWT … or perhaps McCormack himself, would be a particularly desirable feather in his cap.  
“But twelve months.” Tom thought bleakly. “He thinks Sally needs a year with me. Oh, fuck!”

Keeping his upbeat expression in place somehow, Tom nodded. “That’d be so great, Mr. McCormack. A sponsorship like that would set me up for life.”  
“Indeed, it would.” McCormack stood, bringing the meeting to an end. As he escorted Tom to the lift he said idly, “You know my niece, Sally?”  
“Here it comes.” Tom thought bitterly. “Yes, I know Sally.” he said aloud. How he kept the rancour from his voice, he didn’t know.  
“I’m not surprised.” McCormack’s tone, like his words, was undefined. He took Tom’s elbow and lowered his voice. “Look, Sally’s going to some do near her home and she needs a date. It’d be nice if, you know, you escorted her?” He smiled, but it was an unpleasant expression. “After all, every girl likes a nice, good looking young man on her arm.” He winked suggestively.  
“Of course.” Tom agreed. “It’d be my pleasure.” Silently he thought, “Yeah, and now I’m a young man? You fucking hypocrite.”

The hand holding his elbow rose to squeeze Tom’s shoulder. “Yes. Life’s about the pursuit of pleasure, Tom, and Sally can give that in spades.”  
It wasn’t until Tom was in the lift that he began to dissect what his boss had said. “What the fuck?” the man grimaced. “What the hell did he mean by that?”  
Somehow, deep inside him, Tom knew what his boss had intimated. It made him feel sick, but perhaps went some way to explain why Sally McCormack behaved the way she did.   
Once he was back in the tech building, Tom decided to bite the bullet and go to Sally and offer to be her date. He reasoned that the sooner this farce began, the sooner it would come to an end. At least that’s what he hoped.  
Sally looked up as he tapped on her alcove partition. Her role in the company was undefined, she seemed to simply drift from department to department like a social butterfly. Tom was aware she had several alcoves in both the tech building and the administration one.

She sent him a knowing smile and sat back, crossing her legs, and flicking back her hair. “She knows.” Tom sighed inwardly.  
He sent her a small smile and a roguish wink. “I hear you’re off to some posh do soon and you might like an escort?”  
The smile that spread across the young woman’s face saddened Tom. Although he could see her avarice, he could also see that she seemed to actually believe he wanted to do it. That somehow, he’d offered to escort her because he had a genuine romantic interest in her.  
Tom suddenly felt very depressed. He never thought he’d feel pity for a person like Sally McCormack. He was brought out of his musings as Sally said breathlessly, “Next Saturday. Seven thirty. Formal dress.”  
Tom’s smile grew. “Ok. Pick you up at 7.15?”  
“Uh huh. Sounds wonderful.”

He sent another wink and left, one part of him dreading the coming date, but another, kinder part of him hoping he could show her a good time.  
As he entered the lab area, he saw Katya hunched over an analysis unit. Tom thought she looked tired. He wandered over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.   
She reacted badly. She whirled around and swung her arm, her clenched fist impacting over the top of Tom’s ear. He let out a yell of pain and surprise as he staggered backwards.  
Katya glared at him; her teeth bared.   
“Jesus, Katya!” Tom growled, while placing his hand over his throbbing, rapidly reddening ear.  
“I told you!” the furious woman spat. “Don’t ever touch me without permission.”  
“Ok, fine.” Tom grumbled sourly. Unfortunately, his outrage all but destroyed his common sense. “But it’s not my fault you’re all bent out of shape about men. You just remember I never knocked you up.”  
Katya paled visibly. “What did you say?” her voice was barely a whisper.

Too late, Tom realised what he’d just done. “Oh, fuck, Katya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”  
“You didn’t mean to what, Tom? What have you heard?”  
He held up his hands and began to shake his head. “Nothing!” he scrambled to find a way to get himself out of the shit he was in. “Look, when I saw that you’d been researching gynecologists I assumed you had a problem that needed sorting.”  
The disbelief on Katya’s face made Tom begin to sweat. “Hey,” he tried again. “I don’t know anything about women’s stuff. I’m a science nerd. I don’t even have a girlfriend.” His hopes rose as he saw Katya’s expression slowly change. He quickly added, “Or any sisters.”  
Katya was caught in a difficult position. She suspected Tom had heard some kind of gossip about her, and she was fairly certain who would’ve been responsible for telling him, but to pursue it would run the risk of either facilitating more gossip, or complete exposure. She decided to let him off the hook for now. She would consult her intel gatherer later. It may cost her more latinum, but if she could gain the upper hand, it’d be well worth it.

Rurke frowned as he watched the female enter the medical facility. As agreed, he’d deposited a sizeable amount into the hospital’s account, easily enough to repair her internal damage. And she could keep any balance. The extra latinum, along with 1.5 kg of CD was waiting for her in a prearranged place.  
The broker sighed and speculated how long she would last. “She should be alright while in the facility, but once she’s discharged?” He sighed, saddened by the inevitability of it all. “I doubt she’ll survive more than a few days. Either her handlers will kill her, or the CD will.”  
He went over his precautions. “She was thoroughly cleaned, externally and internally, including the ingestion of a purge to remove all traces of me from her digestive tract. All of the hair I removed from her body has been destroyed and the is no trace of her original clothing.”  
He pursed his lips. “I suppose, if she keeps to the story that I kidnapped her to keep as a sexual slave, there’s an outside chance she might survive.” But then he shook his head. “No. Even if her handlers let her go, she’ll fall to the cosmic dust. It’s inevitable.”  
He turned and walked away, putting the female from his mind. He was grateful for what she’d done for him. He felt re engergised and clear headed. And more than ready to restart the hunt for Lannit Yan.

A quiet voice sounded in the all but invisible device in the leader operative’s ear. “Rurke’s on the move.”  
“Acknowledged. Has the female been received?” he asked, murmuring softly.  
“Affirmative. As soon as Rurke’s ship leaves orbit, she’ll be transported to a different facility, and then, in two weeks, she’ll be taken off planet.”  
“And the proceeds?”  
“Already collected and returned to stores.”  
“Acknowledged. Move to the secondary position and maintain close watch.”  
“Acknowledged. Out.”

Lannit Yan stretched and let out a long, satisfied sigh. The seat he was reclined in rocked gently, adding to his languid torpor. On the floor around him were the ravaged and mutilated corpses of three adolescent females.  
He had taken them on a whim, having decided to reward himself for successfully outwitting Rurke. And now that he had sated his appetites, albeit temporarily, he was ready to continue with his efforts to discover where the employer kept his vast wealth. Lannit wasn’t so naïve as to think the funds would be in one place, somehow stashed away. But he did think that it would be quite possible that a portion of the sum was spread over a small assortment of investments.  
And although it was perilous, it was often the case that those with great wealth would take high risk investments in return for high returns. It was those kinds of transactions that Lannit was looking for. If he could take a handful of those, he’d not only be financially secure, but he would have the funds to go after more.  
He smiled as he felt his eyelids begin to droop. He’d allow himself a well-earned rest before tackling the search. He’d earned it.

Deanna sat back and studied her friends. Beverly looked exhausted. Her already pale skin had taken on a pasty look and dark smudges underscored her eyes. Even her usually vibrant hair seemed dull.  
Jean-Luc was faring no better. His weight loss had afforded him a gaunt, haunted appearance and his eyes lacked their usual clarity. The counsellor also noted a slight tremor in his hands. She made a mental note to mention it to Selar.  
Yet despite their appearance, the pair had done well in the session. Deanna had been right about using the captain’s gifts of patience and resolve to allow him to see how they could be used to help him through whatever was to come. It had taken some hard work, and many gut-wrenching tears before he finally conceded, but he seemed calmer and more accepting for doing so.  
Beverly too found that, as her husband made these small forward steps, so she gained more recovered ground. Deanna sighed inwardly as she contemplated how Beverly’s recovery would be assisted if she’d only devote all her energies to herself, instead of investing so much of herself in her husband’s recovery.

“But that’s not who Beverly is.” Deanna sighed again. It was no good worrying over things she couldn’t change, so Deanna concentrated on working with what she had. What she was going to say next was fraught with emotional danger, but she felt it was a necessary step to take.  
“Captain,” she began gently. “You’ve not been sleeping sharing a bed with Beverly, have you.”  
He shook his head and didn’t try to disguise the sadness he felt that Deanna’s statement had caused. It was particularly telling that he felt no embarrassment such a query would have normally elicited.  
“Then I want you,” she turned her head and gave Beverly a long look, “both of you, to start sharing your bed again.”  
Beverly’s mouth opened slightly, and then Deanna saw her swallow nervously. Jean-Luc made no sound, but his expression was stricken.  
The was a definite note of unease in Beverly’s voice as she said quietly, “Maybe that’s not such a good idea, Deanna.”   
The counsellor composed her face and said with firmness, “Why? Do you think your husband is going to rape you?”  
“No!” Beverly blurted. 

Before she could say anything further, Deanna continued. “What then? Is it a trust issue? Or fear?”  
Jean-Luc’s soft sob almost made Deanna wince in pain. Her mental barriers were taking a pounding, but she had to persevere. “And you, Captain. Are you going to rape your wife?”  
He looked up, shock and anguish contorting his features as tears streamed down his face. “No.” he said raggedly.  
“Do you fear her?”  
“No.”  
“Do you trust her?” It was becoming increasingly difficult for Deanna to maintain her resolve.  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc replied brokenly. Adding, “Implicitly.”

Deanna returned her attention to Beverly. “It seems you have more trouble with this than the captainyour husband. You agree that he’s not going to rape you, so there must be some trust there. So, what do you fear?”  
Beverly’s eyes slid jerkily from Deanna to Jean-Luc and back again. She tried twice to speak but couldn’t find any words. Deanna gave her a sympathetic look. “I know memories can be frightening, Beverly, but just as remembered trauma can induce fear, so remembered happiness can bring joy. You have tomust make a choice. You either allow your bad memories to dictate how you live with your husband, or you use the good memories to recover what you have lost.”  
Beverly finally managed to speak. “It’s not that simple.” she said, shaking her head.

“Perhaps not,” Deanna conceded quietly. “but it need not be complicated.”   
The doctor frowned on seeing Deanna’s warm smile. The expression didn’t seem appropriate. “There’s something I think you’ve both forgotten.” Deanna said quietly.  
Beverly’s eyebrows rose challengingly, and Jean-Luc’s head tilted as his interest was piqued. 

“You love each other.” Deanna said gently. “That’s something that’s never changed. And your love for one another has remained a constant that you know with absolute certainty that you can rely on. Do that now. Trust that love. The deep, abiding love you have for each other.”

Jean-Luc looked at his wife with such hope that Beverly began to weep. She nodded and reached out her hand. He took it and sighed. “I love you, Beverly.”  
She was too overwhelmed to reply verbally, but she shifted to sit closer, allowing him to wrap his arms around her.  
Deanna ended the session then and quietly left. She felt confident they would share the bed tonight, although she seriously doubted either would get much sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Katya had spent the rest of her day mulling over what had happened with Tom. She had tried to set up a meeting with her informant but had not yet met with any success. The more she thought about what Tom had said, the more convinced she was that he’d lied to her. 

With growing anger, she left the lab and headed for his office, determined to find out exactly what he’d been told about her.  
Sally too had been on the move. Even though she’d heard from her uncle and knew she’d got her way, Tom’s visit, and subsequent offer to be her date had pleased her immensely. In a heady, almost euphoric state, she decided she couldn’t wait the few days before seeing Tom again, so she left her cubicle and hurried through the building and, as she did, she became significantly sexually aroused. By the time she reached his office she knew she was going to have sex with him.  
Sally didn’t bother to knock. She breezed in, causing Tom to look up and frown. “Sally?” was all he managed to say before she reached him and pushed his chair back from the desk. She then quickly pulled her underwear down and off and straddled the startled man.

“What are you doing?” A shocked Tom spluttered.  
“Oh,” Sally murmured huskily. “I think you can figure it out, Tom.”  
What Tom had told Katya about not having a girlfriend was true, in fact it’d been many months since he’d had a sexual partner. He gritted his teeth as Sally ground against him, becoming angry with himself as his cock betrayed him by quickly stiffening.  
Sally felt him hardening and mewed her appreciation. Her hands went to his trousers and undid them before reaching in and freeing his cock. “Oh,” she said breathily. “You’re so hard … I want you, Tom.”  
She rose and guided him to her entrance. Still somewhat dazed, Tom used his hand to spread her labia and run his fingers over her clit. As his cock slipped inside her, Sally moaned loudly then leaned forward and said coarsely, “Fuck me! Fuck me really hard.”  
Tom gripped her hips and did as she’d instructed. A small part of him knew he shouldn’t be doing this, that it was a very foolish thing to do, but the greater part of him was too enmeshed in lust to refuse.  
Neither Tom nor Sally heard the door open, but they did hear the incredulous voice as Katya said, “What the fuck’s going on here?”

The couple froze and Sally slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder. The smile that appeared on her face was spiteful. “You wouldn’t understand, Katya. You see, I don’t have to let Tom fuck me to advance my career, and Tom doesn’t need to take advantage of me just to demonstrate his superior rank. This isn’t Starfleet.”  
Katya’s eyes narrowed and her expression became blank. If Sally had shut up at that point, what followed may have been avoided, but she didn’t. She had one more cruel barb to land.  
“And of course, Tom won’t knock me up. I won’t have to have multiple terminations.”  
In two quick strides, Katya reached the still connected couple and grabbed Sally’s collar. She said nothing as she wrenched the woman backwards and off Tom’s lap.  
He gaped in shock as Katya, completely ignoring Sally’s screeching and struggling, punched her three times rapidly, once flush on Sally’s nose, breaking it, and twice in her stomach. Sally fell to the floor and Katya straddled her, one knee each side.  
Tom shot to his feet, stuffing his now flaccid cock back into his pants. He shouted, “Katya, stop!”

She gave no indication she’d heard him. Sally, now sobbing and holding one hand to her bloodied nose, called out, “Help me! Get her away from me!”  
Tom approached warily, very aware that if he touched Katya, she could turn her aggression on him. He was no coward and he thought he could probably overpower her, but in her present state there was enough doubt in his mind to want to remain cautious.  
“Katya.” he said firmly, but not aggressively. “Please, stop.”  
He looked on in horror as Katya wrapped one hand around Sally’s throat and began to squeeze. Sally clawed at the hand, her eyes beginning to bulge as her face darkened as it suffused with blood. Katya used the opportunity to punch Sally’s face again.  
Tom had seen enough. He went quickly to the desk and grabbed the chair. He hoisted up and rushed at Katya, swinging the chair down and across to strike her shoulder. It also connected with her head, opening a nasty gash. She grunted and tipped sideways but didn’t lose her grip on Sally’s throat. 

Tom had no choice but to repeat his attack. This time he put more power into it and managed to knock Katya off her knees and onto her side. Her grip faltered enough for Sally to get free. She scrambled to her feet and lurched out of the room.  
Katya rose to her feet and stared coldly at Tom. He used the chair as a shield, fending her off as she began to stalk him. “Katya,” he said in as much of a reasonable tone as he could. “you have to stop. You’re in enough trouble as it is, don’t make it worse by attacking me.”  
She stood still and a small frown appeared. Tom saw what was happening and was quick to press home his tiny advantage. “It’s me, Katya, Tom. You don’t have to do this. Just think about it.”  
Katya raised her hand, the one riven with scratches from Sally’s nails. She looked at Tom and he could see her confusion. “It’s ok.” he said quietly and placatingly. “I’ll put this chair down and you can sit on it. Maybe take a breather, yeah?”  
He did as he suggested and Katya, somewhat dazed, and with blood flowing down the side of her face from her head wound, sat. Tom moved to the desk and quietly summoned security. He was mildly surprised to find that Sally hadn’t already done it.

Rurke’s ship stayed in orbit only four hours after he’d left the female at the medical facility. It took that long to find a lead to follow, yet even then, Rurke was dubious. He’d badly underestimated Lannit Yan. There was no doubt he’d be hearing from his employer soon. That brought his thoughts back to the problem Picard’s destroyed semen represented.  
Rurke still didn’t know why he’d not told his employer about that. It wasn’t fear of punishment, he’d always known that his continued existence was in the hands on the being who employed him. No, there was something else at play, but as yet, he didn’t know what.  
A lifetime of trusting his instincts had Rurke shrugging. “No doubt it’ll become clear with time.” He sighed and turned to the bridge console. He set his course and speed and watched as his ship turned on its axis and moved out of the system at sub warp. Once clear, the jump to warp would make his ship vanish.  
Undetected by Rurke, a new type of ship hung invisible in space and hyper-alert, recorded Rurke’s departure. It would follow, knowing it could not be seen or detected.

Jean-Luc and Beverly had gone through James’s bedtime routine and had enjoyed a quiet time with their daughter before putting Elly to bed. There followed an increasingly tense few hours before Jean-Luc rubbed his eyes. He was very tired, having not had a proper sleep for some time. He rose and offered a small smile. “Shall we do this together, or would you prefer to go to bed before me?” He then added, “Or after me?”  
Beverly’s head snapped up and alarm skittered across her face. She managed to school her features and offer a small smile of her own. “Um … I think together would be best.”  
“All right.” Jean-Luc’s smile grew a little. “So, now, then?”

“Yes.” Beverly stood and then glanced at the bedroom door. Jean-Luc could easily see her hesitancy and sighed sadly. “It’s all right, Beverly, I understand, I really do. We don’t have to do this.”  
He moved to retrieve a pillow and blanket, intending to make a bed on the sofa, but Beverly went to him and gently took his hand. “No, Jean-Luc. You don’t have to do that.”  
She led him to their bedroom and said quietly, “Deanna’s right, I do trust you. I know you won’t hurt me, Jean-Luc.” Her smile was sad, and her voice wobbled as she added, “It’s just the memories I have to overcome, that’s all.”  
A soft sob was torn from Jean-Luc as he said, “That’s all?”  
Beverly took her husband into her arms and they held each other for some time, seeking and receiving comfort. When he felt more in control of his emotions, Jean-Luc said quietly, “I’ll do everything in my power to help you, Beverly.”  
She pulled back a little and smiled. It was a watery expression, but genuine. “I know you will.”  
He turned to look at the bed. “Usual routine?” 

“Might as well.”  
Falling into established patterns, each went to their sides of the bed and undressed. Jean-Luc put on a pair of shorts, while Beverly opted for a simple plain cream coloured nightie. Then they took it in turns to visit the bathroom. Together they checked on their children before quietly slipping into bed.  
They lay quiet and still for quite some time. Jean-Luc was on his back, his right forearm across his eyes. Beverly was on her side, slightly curled and facing away from her husband. They both knew the other was awake.  
Jean-Luc, unwilling to break the brittle silence, bore his tension stoically. However, the strain of the situation made Beverly suddenly turn over and sigh.

“This is ridiculous!” she snapped angrily. “I love you, Jean-Luc, and I’m not going to let some stupid memories keep me from enjoying being in bed with you.”  
He looked at her and summoned a smile. “The circumstances aside, it’s lovely to be lying beside you, Beverly. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.” His voice broke as the last words trickled to a halt. Beverly smiled her understanding as her eyes filled with tears.  
“Hold me, Jean-Luc.”  
He was tentative but did as she requested. For a little while they just lay quietly, but once Beverly began to weep, Jean-Luc joined her. Sometime later, well into the long night, the couple found sleep. Although it was just a few hours, it was very healing.  
Lying awake in her bed, Deanna brushed away a tear and sighed. In the darkness she whispered, to not disturb her sleeping lover, “Well done, dear friends. Well done.”

The day after Katya’s physical assault on Sally, several things happened. Tom had managed to find Sally. She was at work and her face now showed no trace of her injuries. All the evidence, the bruising etc., of the assault had been removed from her body. Tom was suspicious about her as she still hadn’t reported the incident. He wanted to know why.  
Sally opted for scorn and derision when Tom asked his questions. He grew more and more angry and frustrated by her attitude, but when she made a flippant remark about their coming date, he lost what little remained of his patience.  
“You don’t honestly think that I’m still going to escort you to that function, do you? For fuck’s sake, Sally! Are you insane?”  
She appeared genuinely confused when she replied, “Why not?” But then the glint of slyness skittered across her eyes. “After all, we were having a lovely time ‘til that crazy bitch interrupted us.” Her wink was grotesque, and she added, “And there’ll be plenty more of that kind of fun to come.”

He was so gob smacked he simply shook his head while he tried to find the words to express his outrage. “Are you being deliberately stupid, or do you genuinely believe this whole cluster fuck never happened?”  
She glared coldly at him, but Tom continued, undaunted. “You do realise I called security yesterday?”  
She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “So what? You didn’t make any accusations, I checked. As far as company security’s concerned, Kurnov suffered some kind of,” she lifted her hands and made quotation marks with her fingers, “breakdown.”  
“You checked up on my report?” Tom was incredulous. “You’ve no right to do that!”  
Sally’s eyes widened. “No right?” she spat. “I’ve every right. If word got out what you were doing to me at the time that that insane woman flipped out, you’d be put under a extremely uncomfortable microscope.” Her calculating smile sent a chill up Tom’s spine. “You don’t want that, do you? I mean, I’d hate to see you charged.”  
“Charged?” Tom said weakly. “Charged with what?”

“Non-con sex, of course.” Sally feigned shock, seemingly disbelieving that Tom could possibly not either understand or agree.  
Still struggling to catch up with Sally’s bombshell announcement, all Tom could do was shake his head as he said, “Non-consensual sex? Sally, you came into my office and … and…”  
“And?” Sally smiled coldly. “And you ripped my underwear off and forced me to straddle your lap. I protested, of course, I said no, but you ignored me and shoved your cock inside me.” Her smile became predatory. “I suppose it could be said that Kurnov saved me. So, it’s no wonder you didn’t give details to security. You wanted to protect your job, because my uncle would’ve sacked you immediately if he found out what you did.”  
Tom’s mouth gaped momentarily. “But you just said we were having fun. You implied there would be more…” he said weakly.

“Did I?’ Sally grinned maliciously. She then fluttered her hands. “Obviously, I’m still in shock. It’s so confusing. I suppose it’s common for victims who’ve been led astray to fall prey to a sexual predator.”  
“Fall prey to a sexual predator?” Reality was beginning to clarify Tom’s thinking. His eyes narrowed as the ramifications became clear. “You’re going to blackmail me?”  
Sally made a hammy attempt at acting, placing a hand over her mouth as she effected shock. “Blackmail?” she gasped theatrically. “How could you even utter the word?” Then her expression changed to something far more sinister. “I prefer the term, encouragement.”  
Tom’s sudden coldness hardened, and his resolve began to form. He’d be dammed if he was going to be extorted by this despicable woman. “It won’t work.” he said quietly.  
“What won’t work, Tom?” Sally moved closer and raised her hand to caress his face. He caught her wrist and shook his head.  
“Don’t touch me.” he said quietly. He then turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving a suddenly seething Sally behind him. While he still felt emotionally strong, he went straight to the administration building and tendered his resignation, effective immediately.

Not giving himself any time to consider the consequences, Tom left and went to the medical facility that Katya had been taken to. He encountered some difficulty in obtaining permission to see her. But his persistence paid off as he was directed to her room.  
He entered cautiously and was relieved to find his friend sitting in a chair by a window, calm and rational. “Katya?” he said quietly.  
She turned towards the sound of his voice and summoned a sad smile. “Tom.” was all she said.  
He got a chair and moved it close to her before sitting and offering a sigh. “We have to talk.” he muttered.  
Katya shrugged. “I think the time for talking has passed, Tom.” she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Unless you’re referring to legal representatives.”

“No, I’m not.” Tom responded. “Somehow I’ve been dragged into some serious shit by Sally McCormack and you’ve been sucked into it as well.”  
Katya regarded Tom silently, and it wasn’t long before her implacable gaze made the man feel decidedly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and murmured, “I’m sorry, Katya.”  
His apology seemed to surprise her. “You’re sorry? What for?”  
That confused Tom and caused him to blush as he explained, “What you walked in on … what Sally and I were doing.”  
“Oh, that.” A smirk lurked on Katya’s face. She snorted softly and shook her head. “I don’t care about that, Tom. Who you choose to fuck is your business, although I am disappointed it was Sally. You could do a lot better, I’m sure.”  
Tom was relieved, yet vaguely insulted. He let out a disgruntled huff as he ran a hand through his hair. “I just didn’t want you to feel … jealous, or that I’d, you know…”  
On seeing the look on Katya’s face, Tom stopped talking. 

“Tom,” Katya said quietly, “we’re not a couple, you know that, right?”  
“Yeah, of course I know that.”  
“So, it’s highly unlikely I’d feel any jealousy over seeing you having sex with someone else.”  
“Yeah.” Tom tried to sound amused, but a trace of his hurt seeped into the word.  
Katya sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Look, I’m not even sure I like blokes, at least not exclusively. I might be bi, I’m not sure.” She frowned and shook her head. “I like looking at blokes, you know, admiring a good looker, but it’s not a sexual thing with me.”  
That caught Tom’s interest. “How come you don’t know?”

“I don’t know.” Irritation coloured her voice, but then she relented. “I suppose it’s a combination of things. I come from a large family and I never seemed to have had the time to … experiment? And then I got into the academy…”  
As soon as the word left her mouth, she grimaced. Tom picked up on it immediately. “The academy? Starfleet academy?”  
“Yes.” she replied quietly. She then gave Tom a defiant look. “What did she say about me?”  
He knew Katya was referring to Sally. He frowned as he gave some thought to the wisdom of telling Katya what Sally had said. He was also concerned about how she might react. After all, he’d seen the results of Katya’s response to Sally’s nastiness for himself. However, in the light of friendship, Tom decided to tell her.  
He did, however, try to find some way to gauge Katya’s state of mind before he began. “Ok,” he said cautiously, “I’ll tell you, but…”

Katya shook her head as she realised why he was so wary. She held up a hand and sighed. “I’ve been medicated, Tom. You’re safe.”  
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Ok,” he started again. “Sally McCormack met me when I was leaving a public metro and became very chummy. It was obvious she was hitting on me, but I wasn’t interested. In a way to catch my interest, and because she’d seen us at the bistro together, she told me she knew some interesting stuff about you.”  
He lapsed into silence which prompted Katya to say, impatiently, “What stuff?”  
“She told me that you’d been fucking Jean-Luc Picard.” Tom said in a rush. “Sally reckoned either you were sleeping with him for personal gain, or he was fucking you simply because he could. In any event, Sally told me he’d impregnated you more than once and that you’d terminated all the pregnancies.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Katya said bitterly. “The fucking irony.”  
Tom was worried for his friend. Yet her response hadn’t been a denial. “Want to tell me about it?” he asked quietly, not really believing she would.  
There followed an uncomfortable silence until Katya shook her head. “I might as well, if only to set the record straight.”  
Tom sat forward and nodded. “Ok, and I give you my word, Katya, I won’t tell anybody else what you tell me.”  
The smile she gave him was sad. “Of course, you will, Tom. That’s human nature.”  
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent. Katya sighed and shook her head. “It’d begun so well…”  
She told Tom what had happened. How she’d been chosen to be the nanny for them and how the disastrous events it had begun with Picard refusing to act when he should’ve, through the rapes and the discovery of the malformed embryos and their expulsion.  
Tom gaped, then said quietly, “Shit, Katya.”

“Yeah, shit.” she replied angrily. “On the basis of mine and his wife’s accusations, he was charged. Reckless endangerment and multiple counts of rape, but it never went anywhere.”  
For the first time, Katya grudgingly admitted there were mitigating factors in Jean-Luc’s actions. “We’d all been drugged. Our abductors had given his wife and me drugs to control us and to greatly improve our fertility. And Picard had, apparently, been given drugs to make him super fertile and unable to control a hyper elevated need to fuck.”  
“So,” Tom said tentatively, “was it the drugs that caused the malformation of your embryos?”  
“They weren’t mine!” Katya spat. “They only existed because I was raped, multiple times!” She took a deep breath and managed to calm herself. The medication helped her achieve that. “But yes. It seems that our eggs, his wife’s and mine, and his sperm, were damaged by the drugs we’d all been given.”

Tom was finding it hard to find an appropriate response. He eventually settled for, “I’m so sorry, Katya.”  
She snorted and angrily swiped at a tear. “You and me both.”  
“What are you going to do?” Tom asked.  
Katya shrugged. “About what?”  
It was Tom’s turn to shrug. “About everything.”  
“There’s nothing I can do about what Picard did.”

Tom was going to offer his opinion, but Katya silenced him. “No. My only option would be the civil courts, but that would mean public disclosure and, as my family don’t know about what happened, I don’t want to go down that path.” She sighed sadly. “They don’t even know I’ve resigned from Starfleet and returned to Earth.”  
“You’ve no support?” Tom gasped. “What about professional help? Psychologists?” he hesitated before adding, “Psychiatrists?”  
Katya shrugged and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I don’t want that either. I’ve enough trouble dealing with the difficulties of what Picard did to me, I certainly don’t want any more interference with my psyche by overzealous mind trawlers. Deanna Troi’s efforts were enough for me.”  
Tom filed that away for later consideration. He was becoming determined to help his friend. A thought occurred to him, but he hesitated to voice it. “Katya,” he said cautiously. “why were you researching gynecologists? Were you … damaged … by what happened to you?”

Katya’s eyes flared angrily, but her angst quickly subsided. “No, all the damage he’d caused had been repaired. I want to be permanently sterilised.”  
“Permanently sterilised?” Tom asked worriedly. He was going to ask if she was sure that was what she wanted but caught himself in time. Instead he nodded sympathetically. “That’s understandable.”  
Katya sent him a grateful look and backed it up by saying quietly, “Thanks, Tom.”  
“Whatever you do is your business, Katya. Totally your decision.” He added an encouraging smile. “So, what about yesterday?”  
Katya shrugged. “What about it? I’m fucked. I committed an unprovoked assault on an innocent victim, my boss’s niece, no less.”  
Tom’s eyes narrowed as his mind began to whirr. “That might not be true.” he said quietly. 

Katya frowned and edged forward in her chair. “What do you mean?” she asked, suddenly interested.  
“Sally McCormack tried to blackmail me over what happened.”  
Somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised. “How so?”  
Tom grimaced, his memory furnishing the unpleasant details. “I saw her only an hour or so ago.” Tom’s expression clearly showed his disgust. “I wanted to see how she was.” He sent an apologetic smile to Katya. “You gave her quite a beating.”  
Katya snorted and then grinned. “I do remember it, but it’s like it was someone else doing it.”  
“I get that.” Tom smiled. “Anyway, first of all she was all, ‘That Kurnov bitch attacked me!’ but I knew she’d not reported it. I remined her of that, but she countered by saying that I’d called security, but I’d not named you specifically in any reportable action.”  
Katya’s surprise was obvious. “Really?”

“Yes.” Tom sighed. “Look, Katya, it was obvious Sally goaded you, and I knew by what happened at the bistro that there was more to whatever she was trying to needle you with, so I hedged my bets. I kept at Sally and she swapped tactics. Where before she was saying how good what we did in my office was, and that there was more to come, and then suddenly she said that what occurred was non-con sex. That I’d raped her.”  
Katya’s expression easily showed her outrage and disgust. “Jesus!” Katya spat. “What a manipulative, cunning bitch.”  
“Tell me about it!” Tom agreed. “But there’s more. She only took the opportunity to, well, fuck me, because her uncle, our boss, called me up to his office and dangled a sponsorship carrot in front of me. It was subtle, but he made it clear that if I became Sally’s fuck- mate, then said sponsorship could well come my way.”

“Oh, my god!” Katya said loudly. “How the hell does Sally McCormack come by that kind of sway over her uncle?”  
“That,” Tom grimaced. “may be a very sad question.” he sighed. “Carl McCormack said something to me that I found odd at the time, but in retrospect, may be very telling.”  
Katya sat forward, totally engaged. “What did he say?”  
Tom frowned as he recalled the conversation. “He was escorting me to the lift when he made the not-so-subtle mention of Sally needing someone to take her to some do that was upcoming. True to form, I offered to be the bunny.”  
He grimaced and shook his head. “I feel so ashamed, Katya. My head was filled with the opportunities that a sponsorship could bring. I knew what he was doing, in fact I was aware that this kind of behaviour was common, Sally using her uncle to set her up with any man who took her fancy, but somehow, in those few seconds, I convinced myself that I could amuse her for a few weeks then she’d move on to find fresh meat.”  
He sighed ruefully. “And I even managed to push aside her uncle’s estimate of a whole year before I would be considered for a sponsorship.” Tom snorted and used his hands to wave away the words.  
“Anyway, I’d said it’d be my pleasure to escort Sally. It was his response to that that struck me as odd. He said, ‘Yes. Life’s about the pursuit of pleasure, Tom, and Sally can give it in spades.’”  
Katya’s eyes widened. “Now that is weird. It’s not exactly an avuncular thing to say.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Tom shuddered as he added, “And if they’ve got some kind of arrangement going, then it might just prove helpful to us.” His expression softened. “And maybe help Sally in the longer term.”  
“Help Sally? Why?” there was anger in the question. Tom offered a small smile.  
“I think she may have been abused by her uncle, and if that’s true, it goes a long way to explain her predatory behaviour.”  
After some long moments of consideration, Katya smiled. “You’re a good bloke, Tom.”  
He shrugged in a self-conscious way. “What she did to you and me was reprehensible, but if she’s being coerced, if she’s been sexually abused by her uncle, then she deserves pity.”  
“That’s only if she’s the one being coerced or abused. It may be the other way around.”

Tom’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, fuck! I hadn’t thought of that.”  
Katya’s expression was grim. “Yeah, well, until we get a lot more information, we’d best concentrate on the here and now. So, I’m off the hook?” As she received Tom’s nod, she went on, “Then we concentrate on you. What’s your status at work? Is it business as usual in the lab?”  
“I don’t know.” Tom shifted in his seat. “I didn’t go to the lab this morning. Once I arrived, I spent some time tracking Sally down. Like I said, I wanted to know if she was all right. I found her in the building, so I went to see her. That’s when she threw her shitstorm at me. I was so pissed off I left and went straight to the admin building and resigned, effective immediately.”  
“Wow!” Katya was genuinely impressed. “Talk about pro-active.”

Tom offered a wry smile. “Yeah, but I doubt I’ll be employable for a exceptionally long time. Carl McCormack rules the roost in WD design and development, you know that. Once Sally does the boohoo, poor little me thing to her uncle, I’ll be blackballed.”  
“Maybe, maybe not.” Katya replied cryptically. “What’s more important is that she doesn’t do the boohoo, poor little me thing to the police.”  
“Would she though?”  
That brought a frown to Katya’s face. “Why wouldn’t she? By making an official allegation of non-con sex, not only could she avoid any censure from her uncle for fucking you in your office, but she also gets to salvage her pride. I seriously doubt any of her targets have walked out on her and quit their job in an act of defiance.”  
“That’s probably true.” Tom nodded thoughtfully.  
“I assume the preferred method the uncle used to secure her chosen men was the promise of advancement?”  
“I guess so, at least it was with me.”

“Yeah, a sponsorship.” Kaya’s tone clearly held her derision. “So, I suppose, if there was any resistance, then it’d become a threat to the job for noncompliance, rather than a reward for acceptance.”  
“More than likely. I can’t see how any of Sally’s targets could refuse. One way or another Carl had them by the short and curlies.”  
“Which makes your actions even more remarkable, Tom. By walking out on Sally and then quitting, you’ve turned the tables 180 degrees.”  
Tom’s head lifted as he laughed. “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Makes me feel a bit better, even though I’m out of a job and not likely to find another any time soon.”  
Katya smiled enigmatically. “Like I said before, maybe, maybe not.” She rose and went to the window. “I’m going to discharge myself, Tom. I still have a job, and there’s something I think I should mention.”  
“What’s that?”

“Sally might do the boohoo thing to the authorities, but she may have discounted the fact that I witnessed what was happening in your office. And I can attest that what I saw was most definitely not non-consensual sex.”  
“Yeah, you’re right. In fact, Sally mentioned something like that.”  
“She did?”  
“Yeah, she remarked that your actions might’ve saved her from more of my assault.”  
“Huh.” Katya rolled her eyes and then muttered, “she’s so manipulative…” She then refocused on their discussion. “So, we’ve got a couple of options. We either sit tight and wait to see what she does, or we take pre-emptive action and report her for sexual impropriety. Although you acceded to her demands for sex, you were coerced.”  
Tom’s tone was doubtful. “I don’t know, Katya. I didn’t resist. Once it began, I wanted to … you know…”  
“Ok,” she conceded with some discomfort, “but think about it. What would’ve happened if you’d refused?”  
“No sponsorship, and if I continued to refuse, no job.”

“Exactly. Coercion is coercion, Tom. There’s no level or degree of severity.”  
“Shit, you’re right.” Tom sighed. “So, now what?”  
“You can stay in my place for a while, until you can find something.” At seeing Tom’s look of confusion, Katya gently reminded him, “The company supplied your housing, Tom.”  
“Oh, crap! I’d forgotten about that. And food! I’ll have to buy way more food.”  
“Don’t stress, there’s plenty at my place. I’ll go back to work this afternoon, test the waters, and keep my ears and eyes open. I’ll send my address and unit access details to your com device.”  
Tom snorted and shook his head. “I came here to see you, thinking I was going to help you. Jesus, your head’s clearer than mine. It’s turned out you’re helping me way more.”  
Katya shrugged. “I think it’s the meds. I feel better than I have for quite a while.”  
“Yeah, well, thanks anyway, Katya.” He smiled as he stood. “Keep your head down at work. Sally’s bound to be really pissed at you.”  
“No doubt.”  
Tom left to go home and pack up his belongings.

Will was struggling with how to talk to his captain about their mission. Technically, it was Will’s mission, but as his captain was being used as bait in order for Will to succeed in his task, he felt it was only right that his CO was made aware of the situation.  
And that brought him to his current dilemma. The Picard family had endured a terrible series of events and were only just at the initial stages of what Will hoped would be a full recovery. But, as the big acting captain knew from personal experience, starting that particular journey was when it was its most difficult. Once those first, painful steps were taken, the momentum could build and the speed of the recovery increase.  
Having reached the Picard quarters, Will stretched his neck, and ordered his thoughts. Hesitating only a second or two more, he pressed the chime.

Jean-Luc was seated in his favourite chair, reading to James, who was sitting on his father’s lap. The boy was grinning as his father made all the voices and noises appropriate for the story’s characters.  
The man looked up, a slight frown marring his brow. “Come,” he called quietly. Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose on seeing his first officer. “Number One.” he greeted Will mildly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”  
Will was pleased to find his captain so calm. Steady’ was the word that came to Will’s mind. The acting captain took in the tableau and offered a warm smile while gesturing to James and the book. “I don’t mind waiting, sir.”  
Jean-Luc’s smile was a small one, but not lacking in gratitude. “We’re nearly finished.” he said to Will. The tall, bearded man lifted an eyebrow and pointed to the nursery. Jean-Luc understood the tacit question and nodded. “Yes. She’s in the nursery changing Elly.”  
“Ok if I go in?”  
“Yes, of course.”

As Will entered the master bedroom, he heard his captain resume his story reading. Beverly looked up when he came into the nursery and was surprised to see a wistful smile gracing his face.  
“What’s caused that?” she asked, a smile of her own crinkling the corners of her eyes.  
Will easily interpreted the query and chuckled. “Just the scene I walked into. The captain with James on his lap, a book open and a story unfolding, with all the voices and sound effects.”  
Beverly finished changing Elly and sighed, her expression tender. “He’s come a long way from the old, stoic Jean-Luc, that’s for sure.”  
“Oh, yeah.” Will agreed enthusiastically. “I mean, only two years ago, I couldn’t have imagined I’d ever see something like that.”  
“Me either.” Beverly grinned. “He’s a remarkable man, Will. There are depths to him, facets of him that I never knew existed.”  
She tilted her head as she reassessed her comment. “No, that’s not right. Or fair. I’ve always known, or at least suspected, that he was far more to him than the little he allowed us to see. I’ve known him an awfully long time and I think I always knew he was the epitome of the whole ‘still waters running deep’ thing.”

“Yep, I’d have to agree with that.” Will smiled as he nodded. “I haven’t known him as long as you, and certainly not on the personal level that you’ve enjoyed, but I’ve always had the impression that he was like an iceberg, you know, only a third of it is visible? The greater part lies hidden underwater.”  
“Ha! Yes, and ready to snag the unwary.” Beverly grinned as she handed Elly to Will. She was delighted to see the man gently kiss the baby’s cheek and hold her tenderly. “Oh yes,” she mused silently. “Fatherhood would suit you as well, Will Riker. You have hidden depths within you as well.”

The three left the nursery and the adults took their seats in the living area just as Jean-Luc was finishing the book. He closed it as James sighed. “I like that story, papa.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc smiled. “It is a good one.” He gave his son a gentle hug and kissed his brow. “Now uncle Will has come to visit, so perhaps you might like to watch over Elly while you play with your toys on the mat?”  
“’Kay.”  
Will had been listening and he grinned at James as he watched as his father caried Elly to the mat and laid her down carefully. The young boy gazed at his little sister with a solemn expression before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on her cheek.  
She gurgled happily and James chuckled. Satisfied that he had the situation under control, he put a soft toy in Elly’s hands and then tipped out the connector blocks and began to construct his latest masterpiece.

Jean-Luc turned his attention to the visitor and spoke quietly. “I take it this isn’t a purely social visit?”  
Will’s sudden change from genial uncle to serious acting captain told Jean-Luc all he needed to know. Beverly had noticed the change too and felt momentarily sad. Not only had she enjoyed watching Will with Elly, she knew that by Will’s reaction, whatever he was going to say would undoubtedly bring more pain.  
“Captain,” he began, “ do you know a Captain Geir? He’s a Jinj’Le, works at Command.”  
“I know of him, Will, but I don’t know him personally.”

“Right.” Will nodded thoughtfully before asking Beverly the same question. She too responded as her husband had. She knew the name but not the person.  
“I ask because I was summoned to Command not long after we docked. Captain Geir has given me a mission.”  
When Will said nothing more, Jean-Luc sat back in his chair and rubbed his fingers over his lower lip. He gave Will a steady look before saying quietly, “Considering I’m still relieved of duty, your being here and telling me this seems to indicate that I’m to be involved somehow in your mission.”  
Will’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “Yes, Captain, you are.”  
Jean-Luc pursed his lips and tilted his head in thought. “Would I be right in thinking that your mission involves the Tholian we’ve talked about?”  
“Yes, sir, you’d be 100% correct.”

“Are you going on a fishing trip, Will, and am I to be the bait?”  
Beverly grabbed Will’s upper arm. He turned to look at her and almost winced at seeing the fear and anger in her eyes. Before he could say anything, she blurted, “No! I won’t let you do this! You can’t!”  
Sadness and frustration coloured Will’s voice. “I have to, Beverly.” he replied with desperation. “I’ve no choice.” He turned back to his captain. “This mission is a high priority one, however, it’s off the books. Command has told me that if I fail, Starfleet and the Federation Council with disavow any knowledge of it.” He then took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “And the Enterprise, and her crew are considered expendable.”  
“What?” The word came out of Beverly as a harsh whisper. “You can’t be serious. The Enterprise and her crew … expendable? That’s insane! This is the flagship, for Christssakes. And anyway, Starfleet can’t afford to lose her, they can’t afford to lose any ships.”  
It was Jean-Luc’s quiet voice that helped Beverly to calm a little. “I can only surmise that Command are desperate for you to achieve your mission, Will. And I’m assuming your task is to eliminate the Tholian?”

Will breathed a long sigh. “Yes, Captain. I’m to locate Lannit Yan and, hopefully, ensnare Rurke, the broker, as well. They both work for the Tholian. Command thinks that by capturing the broker and Lannit Yan, a way may be found to get to the Tholian as well.”  
“Through them.” Jean-Luc nodded pensively. “I can see why Command is so skittish about this. If it became known that Starfleet Command and the Federation Council had anything to do with the Tholian’s death, it could well be the catalyst for a war with the Hegemony, or…” his eyebrows rose as another thought occurred to him. “The Typhon pact.”  
“Yes, sir. And so, spell disaster for the Federation.” Will said grimly. “It wouldn’t survive another war so soon after the Dominion war and the Borg incursion.”

Beverly’s voice carried her sadness. “So, because it’s such an important mission, they chose the best ship and crew. And they’re willing to sacrifice their best because it’s a cheaper price to pay than the billions of lives at risk if you fail.”  
No one said anything for several long minutes, until Jean-Luc asked quietly, “How am I to be used? If this mission is so secret, then I can’t be seen to be involved with you or the ship.”  
Will sighed and rubbed his face, suddenly very tired. “True, it’d up the danger quotient for the ship significantly.” He sighed and offered a shrug. “It’s been left to my discretion how this mission is run, Captain. The only actual order I’ve been given is to do whatever’s required to eliminate the Tholian. As long as I do it quietly and not give any sign that Starfleet or the Council are in any way involved then I’ve been granted carte blanche.”  
“Then we’d best put our heads together, Number One.”

Beverly shook her head and stood. “This makes me feel physically ill.” She moved over to the children and picked Elly up. “I don’t want to hear any of this. We’re going to the arboretum.”  
She left without another word. Jean-Luc sighed and bowed his head. Will’s heart squeezed in sympathy. What was happening to his friends was so terribly unfair.

Rurke doubted he would ever be able to adequately describe the sensation that was sliding sinuously up and down his spine, but he knew not to ignore it. Whether this ability was an evolutionary holdover, unique to his species, or simply an inherited trait specific to his family, he didn’t know. But there was one thing he was certain of. He was being hunted. He could feel it.  
Over the years of his life he’d learned to trust this inherent sense, and in his line of work, it had proved to be invaluable. He went through a series of stretches, done to give the sensation freer access to more of his body. As he knew it would, the slightly painful sensation spread out from his spine, wrapping around his torso, and shooting up his neck and into his head.  
He closed his eyes and waited. Several minutes passed before the feeling began to wane. However, as long as he was being hunted, or as long as the hunters remained relatively close, the feeling and the accompanying sensations would continue.  
He gave thought to his possible strategies for countering this new wrinkle in his current endeavours before moving to a console and tapping in some commands. A scowl developed as each of the commands he inputted failed to answer his question. Where is the nearby ship he knew had to exist? 

Displaying more pragmatism than he actually felt, Rurke sighed and shrugged. He concentrated on relaxing as he thought, “Whoever it is has access to technology that my employer does not. That is interesting. Who?” He sighed and began to slowly walk around the bridge. “Who has that level of technology? And who would be so foolish as to use it to shadow me?”  
He stopped and a frown appeared. “But am I the real target? It’s entirely possible I’m being watched for another reason. I’ve no doubt Lannit Yan has many, many enemies … and it must be common knowledge by now that I’m looking for him, but that still doesn’t answer the question of who’s watching.”  
Rurke resumed his slow walk. “This level of technology would be difficult to keep a secret. If not for my natural ability, I’d be none the wiser, yet the fact I’m certain I’m being watched has already tipped their hand.  
“My employer will see that my ship’s computer was unable to locate any vessel near enough for me to have experienced the warning.” He stopped his feet and pursed his lips. “It might be prudent to warn him.”  
Having made his decision, Rurke didn’t hesitate to send a heavily encrypted, short burst, a message consisting of only two words. ‘Red Eyes’.

Rurke had rarely ever had to use the code for, ‘I’m being watched’. He knew his employer would act swiftly, but as to what he would do, Rurke had no idea. He decided to put it from his mind and redirect his focus to what he’d been instructed to do.  
“Well then, Lannit Yan. I’m on your trail and the scent is growing stronger. Of course, the violated corpses I’m discovering along the way are all the evidence I need to prove I’m on the right path. But other eyes see you, Lannit, and their owners tell me things.”  
He smiled coldly. “And we know you’re persisting in your efforts to steal from our employer. He is growing increasingly unhappy, Lannit. This is going to end very, very badly for you.”  
A thought occurred that made Rurke tilt his head as he considered it. “Where did you hide the females you took for our employer? I know you’ve hidden them, Lannit Yan, because if you’d violated and then killed them, you would’ve left them for me to find. You wouldn’t be able to resist the ‘fuck you’ nature of such a gesture. Your cock has been reconstructed and you’ve left ample proof that it works. Are you saving those females? Do you have another purpose in mind for them?”  
That last question made Rurke clench one fist and drive it into the palm of his other hand. “Picard.” he said fiercely. “Oh, Lannit Yan, you fool. You think of Picard and you see nothing but latinum.” The broker sighed and shook his head. “Are you going to try and undercut our employer?”

The audacity, the sheer insanity of the prospect, made Rurke lift his head and laugh. “Oh!” he gasped a breath or two. “Oh, Lannit Yan, could you be so stupid? You think you can make a fortune in latinum through Picard’s balls. Yet you place such little value on your own life. Our employer already has ample reason to want to vent his anger, his fury on you. If this is indeed what you’ve got in your diseased, corrupted mind, then you are to be pitied. Not by our employer though.” he smiled grimly. “Or me.”  
Rurke then paused and sighed, his shoulders slumping. “And then there’s the not insignificant matter of the destruction of Picard’s semen, which I’ve not told our employer about yet.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I may be joining you in oblivion, Lannit. I can only hope my demise is not nearly as protracted or painful as I know yours will be.”

Deanna was already frowning when the transporter room officer called with a message. Will had told her he was going to speak with the captain about their mission. He’d already told her about that, giving her a brief outline of his mission, and she’d been appalled by what was intended for their CO. A long, at times, heated discussion had ensued. In the end Deanna had to admit, though grudgingly, that there was little Will could do but agree with Command’s insistence of using their captain as bait.  
Her lingering worry was due to what damage may be wrought by the action. Quite aside from the very real fact that whatever ensued might cause death or severe injury to the captain, was the almost inevitable psychological damage he was going to endure. It was doubly frustrating as Deanna had been so encouraged by his and Beverly’s recent achievements. 

Overcoming the difficulty of sharing a bed with his wife had had a tremendously positive effect on the man, as it had on Beverly, too.  
Deanna sighed as she knew this new obstacle to their recovery was going to exact a heavy toll on both of her friends.  
So, when the call came from the transporter room, it was unwelcome. Instead of enquiring over the comm what had prompted the call, she decided to go and ask. If nothing else it may help to distract her from her worries, if only for a little while.  
On entering the transporter room, Deanna sent a perfunctory smile to the young female ensign and said, “Someone has requested permission to beam up to speak with me?”  
“Yes, Counsellor.”  
“And this person requested a physical presence on the Enterprise?”  
“Yes, sir.”

Offering a shrug, Deanna then gestured with her hand. “Very well, beam them aboard.”  
Deanna watched as a form coalesced on the pad. Within seconds a human male, approximately mid-30s, was looking at her, a tentative smile gracing his face. She returned the smile and said, “I’m Counsellor Deanna Troi.”  
The man stepped off the pad, glancing around nervously. “I’m Tom Chalmers.” He stuck out his hand and added, “Doctor Tom Chalmers.”  
Deanna’s eyebrows rose. “Medical doctor?”  
He smiled and flushed. “No. PhD and Master’s in physics, specialising in warp dynamics.”  
“Warp dynamics?” Deanna remarked, deliberately projecting a cool exterior.  
Tom, shifting his feet uncomfortably, cleared his throat and glanced at the transporter duty officer. “Um,” he offered quietly. “can we speak privately?”  
Deanna gave the request a moment’s thought before gesturing to the door. “Yes, of course. If you’ll follow me?”  
She went to the nearest observation room. Once inside she took a seat and invited her guest to do the same. Adopting a closed expression, Deanna said nothing and waited for Tom to disclose why he’d requested the face to face meeting. She thought she knew, but she wanted to be sure.

Tom confirmed her suspicions quickly. “Counsellor Troi, Katya Kurnov is kind of a friend of mine.”  
“Kind of?” Deanna sought clarification.  
“Yes.” he nodded, then added, “We work together and we’ve ... been out for dinner.” he stated timidly, and the blurted, “Once.” Before Deanna could respond, Tom blurted, “Worked!”  
“I beg your pardon?” Deanna said, confused and wary.  
Tom was flustered and struggled to control his embarrassment. “We worked together for a short time, until yesterday, when I resigned. So, we don’t work together now.”  
“I see.” Deanna’s tone was non-committal. “And so, why are you here?”  
Tom grimaced. “I think Katya needs help.” When Deanna stayed silent, Tom elaborated. “She told me about what happened … the rapes and stuff. Because of that … the rapes … some stuff’s happened and she might be in trouble.” he took a deep breath. “Actually, we might both be in trouble.”  
Taking a moment to order her thoughts, Deanna sighed. “May I call you Tom?” she said asked quietly.  
“Yes, of course.” 

A smile greeted that, and Deanna sat forward in her chair. “I hope you realise, Tom, I can’t, actually I won’t, disclose any details about Katya?”  
“Yes, I get that, but she mentioned you in relation to therapy and in the light of what’s occurred…”  
Deanna interrupted gently. “What has occurred, Tom?”  
He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’d best spill the beans.”  
Over the ensuing ten minutes, Tom described everything that’d occurred that he was aware of with Katya.  
“I see.” Deanna responded, worry creasing her brow. “Where is she now?”  
Tom shrugged. “At work, I suppose.” he sighed worriedly. “She discharged herself from the hospital and she said she was feeling much better on the meds, but I’m kind of worried about what might happen if she stops taking them. If she’s at work and Sally gives her any grief…” he left the thought unfinished.  
“Indeed.” Deanna sighed. “When she mentioned me, how was she? In what kind of mindset was she in, do you think?”  
Tom’s expression spoke volumes. “To be frank, pretty derisive.” He frowned, adding, “Angry.”

“I see.” Deanna sighed. She then gave Tom a steady look. “Why are you here, Tom? What is it you think I can do? Given that her reference to me was derisive and angry, what do you think I can do?”  
“I don’t know.” Tom replied sadly. “But I do know that if she doesn’t get some help … and soon, something terrible is going to happen.”  
On hearing the sincerity in Tom’s voice, Deanna knew she’d have to try and see Katya, if only to convince her to accept therapy from someone else. The counsellor offered a small smile and said, “I’ll do what I can, Tom, but it’s up to Katya whether or not she accepts my help, or anyone else’s.”

The man stood and offered his hand once Deanna had risen from her chair. “Thank you, Counsellor Troi.”  
“It’s Deanna, Tom, and thank you for making the effort to come and see me. It seems you really are a friend of Katya’s.”  
He smiled then looked at the door, an uncertain frown appearing as he said, “I think I can find my way back to the transporter…”  
That made Deanna chuckle. “I’ll escort you, Tom. Civilians aren’t generally allowed to go unaccompanied in a starship.”  
“Not even WD specialists?” Tom asked with genuine interest.  
“Not even WD specialists.” Deanna confirmed. “If no permission for freedom of movement has been granted by the captain, then no civilian can be unescorted while on board.” she then clarified, “It’s not just the Enterprise. It’s SOP.”  
Tom frowned. “And SOP is?”

“Standard Operational Procedure.”  
“Ah.”  
They’d reached the transporter room and Tom mounted the pad. Deanna looked up and said, “I may need to contact you, Tom. Would you mind leaving your contact details with Starfleet Command? Just tag your information with my name.”  
“Ok, sure, that’s fine.”  
Deanna sent one more smile, then said quietly, “Energise.”  
She left, heading for the Picard quarters. She’d meant to go there anyway and now she had even more reason to do so.

Lannit Yan sat, staring at a monitor as he read the information on its screen. A smile appeared and his expression became almost dreamy. He shifted slightly and readjusted the quietly humming dildo that protruded from his vagina-like orifice. There was gore around his genitals, and he waved his hand to shoo away a circling insect. He felt a surge of anger as he thought sullenly, “I paid enough to be here, you’d think it’d be free of fucking insects!”  
He completely ignored the fact that the insect life had been drawn by the two corpses lying nearby Lannit. One was on his soiled and bloodstained bed, the other on the equally sullied floor. Two young female lives taken in his pursuit of fulfilling his lust and satisfying his debauchery.

He moved the dildo again and raised the power to elicit more sensation. He grinned as his cock began to harden. After rereading the information on the screen, he tapped in a few instructions and laughed delightedly at the results.  
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” He crowed. “I’m beginning to prise out your secrets, you Tholian fucker.” His giggle sounded grotesque. “And yes, I know you’re a Tholian. But, oh, you hid that little secret so well. While your pet dog, Rurke, was so careful to misdirect me as I searched for your wealth, he forgot to take the same precautions to guard your identity.” He sobered and gave a thoughtful nod. “It was well hidden,” he admitted, “just not well enough.”  
Leaning back in his chair, Lannit lifted the power setting again and sighed as he began to stroke his cock. He glanced up at the ornate ceiling and said loudly, “I’m almost ready for you, my little prizes. Aren’t you lucky?”  
Soft sobbing began and another sound emerged as a second voice began to wail. The sounds hastened Lannit’s stroking hand and he rose, his face a mask of lust. “Are you ready for me?”  
He laughed as he picked up the control that would release his captive’s manacles.  
Three long hours later, two more corpses lay mutilated and violated. Lannit lay sprawled on the bed, sated and sound asleep.

Deanna entered the Picard quarters at her captain’s summons. Although she’d wanted to speak with both Beverly and her husband, she had to be content with just her CO as Beverly was absent. Jean-Luc informed her that his wife had gone with the children to the arboretum.  
The counsellor spent a few moments gauging the man’s emotional state. He was calm, but there was underlying tension in him, and it was slowly building. In an attempt to offer some support, Deanna said quietly, “Will told me about the mission, Captain. And the part you are to play in it.”  
“Did he now?” Jean-Luc tried to sound bland but fell well short of the mark. He heard his failure and grimaced. “It’s odd, Counsellor.” he remarked ruefully. “I feel eager and terrified in equal measure.”  
“That’s understandable.” Deanna said with a gentle smile. “I do wish there was another way to accomplish the mission, though.”  
The man shrugged and offered a wry smile. “It is what it is, Deanna. If we succeed, it’ll be a good thing.”  
“But if we fail?”

He shrugged again, but this time he shook his head. “No, I can’t entertain that. We must succeed.”  
“But just as you had to accept the possibility that Lannit Yan may never have to answer for his part in what happened to you and the others, so you must accept that the mission may fail. To do otherwise is dangerous, Captain.”  
Jean-Luc sighed and made a dismissive gesture. “I understand what you’re saying, Counsellor, but what is ahead requires total focus. I can’t be distracted by what ifs. I have to believe we will achieve the goal of the mission.”  
“While I accept that your focus must be intense, you simply cannot deny that there exists a very real chance the mission will fail. If you’re not at least partially prepared for that, the consequences will be dire.”  
Jean-Luc’s smile and his reply were grim. “The consequences should we fail, Deanna, are that I will, in all likelihood, be killed.” He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “And if we play this badly, this ship and her crew will either be destroyed in the process, or left at the none-too-tender mercies of a truly angry Breen Hegemony and most likely, the Typhon Pact as well. If that scenario seems likely, my advice would be to self-destruct.”  
“Captain…”

He shook his head. “No, Counsellor. The die is cast. We must all play our roles and hope that we prevail.”  
On seeing Deanna’s stricken expression, Jean-Luc relented and said quietly, “I do appreciate your efforts, Deanna. I know you have my welfare uppermost.”  
“Always, Captain.”  
He smiled and gave a nod, bringing her visit to an end. She rose and said, “I’ll go and see Beverly.”  
“That’s a good idea.” Jean-Luc agreed. “She needs to talk to you. This situation…” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “has been difficult for her.”  
Deanna didn’t respond verbally, merely offering a nod. She left the quarters and headed for the arboretum.

Will pursed his lips as he considered his intended strategy. Although Command had told him the ship and her crew were expendable, he refused to accept it. He had given much thought to this and had come up with the only scenario he believed would spare the ship and her crew should everything go pear shaped.  
“This mission has to be undertaken by the only two people required. Me and the captain.” He mused silently. “There’s no need to involve the ship, or anyone else. We obtain a privately owned craft, we find Rurke and Lannit Yan and then we get the information we need to locate the Tholian. Once we do that, we get to him and we capture or, more likely, eliminate him.”  
Will gave a decisive nod. “Logical and clear cut. The less complicated something is, the easier it is to achieve.”  
He tried to keep the doubts and disquieting thoughts at bay, but they lurked in the back of his mind, ready and willing to trip him up and derail his confidence. He rose and narrowed his eyes. “I need to talk this over with the captain.”  
He left the ready room and handed control of the bridge to the duty officer.

Katya thought she was prepared when Sally appeared at her office door. With the protests of the hospital medicos over her self-discharge still fresh in her mind, Katya had been careful to follow the dosage of the prescription meds she’d left with.  
She felt calm and was thinking clearly, certainly more clearly than in recent times. The odd mental lapses she’d been experiencing had concerned her, but she’d brushed them aside, conceding that her all too well remembered traumas had contributed to a situation she hoped would eventually resolve itself. Somehow.  
So, when Sally’s voice broke her concentration, she looked up from the desk monitor and strove to keep her expression and tone bland. “Sally.” Katya said quietly. “What can I do for you?”  
Surprise flashed briefly in Sally’s eyes when Katya didn’t react as she’d thought she would, but she regrouped quickly. What followed next, although only barely discernable, was naked calculation. “What can you do for me?” she asked with feigned innocence. “Surely it’s more a case of what I can do for you?”

Unlike Sally’s faux reactions, Katya’s confusion was genuine. “What?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”  
Stepping uninvited into the office, Sally adopted a wounded look. “Tom Chalmers, of course.”  
Now completely wrong-footed, Katya shook her head as she said, “What about Tom? What are you talking about?” She’d expected Sally to be defensive, to attempt to downplay what had happened. But she quickly realised that the woman had other ideas.  
Rolling her eyes and taking a condescending approach, Sally sauntered over to Katya’s desk and hitched her backside onto its edge. She sighed dramatically as she said, “It’s often those blinded by their feelings that fail to see the danger right in front of their eyes.”  
Katya said nothing as Sally continued. “Tom Chalmers is a predator, Katya. You saw what he did to me.”  
Finally gathering her wits, Katya’s eyes narrowed. “What I saw was you having sex with him.”  
“No, you didn’t!” Sally spat hotly. “What you saw was him raping me!” She then calmed herself and offered a sickly-sweet expression, one dripping with feigned sympathy. “I know you’re aware of what that kind of behaviour does to the victim, Katya. So, I know you’re on my side … that you identify with what I endured.”

Katya rose from her seat slowly, her entire being flooded with outrage. With her fists clenched tightly by her sides, she murmured, “Get out.”  
Shock flashed through Sally, followed quickly by panic. She left the desk and took a few steps away from it. “You don’t mean that.” She attempted to salvage the situation, but in the back of her mind was what Katya had done to her. “I know you didn’t mean what you did to me … that you were trying to protect your lover…”  
“Get out!” Katya yelled. The only thing preventing her from beating Sally to death there and then was the meds she’d only just taken before Sally’s arrival.  
Sally left, hurrying out into the corridor as she gave panicked thought to summoning the company’s security. That brief flash of thought helped calm her while she contemplated the advantages of making a formal, if spurious, accusation against Katya.  
Once she felt she was a safe distance from the specialist’s office, she slowed her pace and turned the idea over in her mind, attempting to weigh the consequences. Although the chance existed that she might be able to kill two birds with one stone, as it were, by getting Katya fired and charged with a serious offence, there was also the undeniable risk that it may completely backfire and cause her significant trouble.

She gave thought to asking her uncle for help, but having endured his attentions only recently, and not yet fully recovered, Sally didn’t want to go down that path. At least not yet. Although it was true her relative would do what she wanted to rid her of Katya Kurnov, not only would the payment be difficult to submit to, but he was always somewhat reluctant to intervene in matters that weren’t strictly personal or sexual.  
He’d know this was based on nothing but spite and, as a result, his payment would be that much more … involved and intense. And he would add to the payment the fact the Kurnov was particularly good at her job. Having recently lost Chalmers, he’d need a lot of encouragement to let his star WD specialist go.  
“No.” Sally conceded grudgingly. “Not unless I can come up with something she can’t wriggle out of.” That thought made her grin, her eyes shining with malicious delight. “I might start that ball rolling by letting what she wants kept secret become common knowledge. It’s pushed her buttons before and caused her to lose her shit. Maybe everyone knowing that she was Captain Jean-Luc Picard’s whore will send her to the looney bin.”  
The chuckle that burst from the woman was disturbing and definitely chilling.

There were times when Rurke found he would rather not have to resort to overt violence. He sighed and shook his head as the young male’s urine trickled down his legs. The broker kept his tone dispassionate. “You know this is avoidable.” he sighed again as he spoke. “I don’t want to do this, if you’d just answer my questions truthfully, it would stop, and you could leave.”  
He applied the painstik and ignored the screams torn from the male’s mouth.  
Once the male had recovered somewhat, Rurke observed quietly, “I’d imagine it’s very painful and that you’d like me to stop?”  
The sobbing victim nodded as ropes of thick white snot slid from his bloodied nose. “Hmm, yes,” the broker agreed, bending to speak into his captive’s ear. “I suppose you would.” He then became quiet, and decidedly, menacingly, serious. “Then are you going to do what you’re told? Are you going to give honest answers to my questions?”  
The male nodded again and Rurke took a step back and turned the painstik off. “All right.” He gave an encouraging smile. “You know I’m looking for Lannit Yan. I know you’ve seen him, and that you did something for him. Where did you see him and what did you do?”

Tears streamed down the male’s face as he whispered piteously, “He will kill me.”  
The viridian sighed with exasperation. “And you think I won’t?” He stepped close and switched the painstik on. “I concede you’re in an unenviable position, but really, what choice do you have? Lannit’s threat to you is clear, but it’s me you’re with at present. It’s me who holds your life in my hands.”  
Rurke waved the torture device close to the male’s genitals. The captive was naked and the sweat and urine on his skin made the painstik’s power arc gently, making sporadic contact. He screamed in agony.  
“Stop!” he shrieked. “I’ll tell you!”  
Rurke lifted the device and seemed to contemplate the bright red tip. The sobs wracking the young male grew in intensity as he feared his torturer was going to use the painstik again. He needn’t have worried though. Rurke knew his victim would tell him everything he wanted to know, and with absolute honesty.  
He stared implacably and then said quietly, “You know what my questions are, I have already asked them more than once.”

The male swallowed and did his best to get his breath. “I saw Lannit Yan on N’arrig. He wanted me to procure … companions for him.”  
“N’arrig?” Rurke was genuinely surprised. “The Orion outworld?” Rurke was so wrong footed, he was momentarily lost for words. Nevertheless, he recovered quickly. “He’s taking a huge risk going there.” The remark was offered randomly.  
The male nodded slowly, his hopes for his life rising. “He knows. He thinks it’s less likely anyone would look for him there, given that the Orions want him for what he did when he and Twenth raided the slave pens.”  
Rurke’s thin eyebrows rose. “Hmm, but still … if the Orions get him…”  
When he said nothing more, the young male continued, eager to add to his meager hold on life. “He wanted girls, ones just maturing. He didn’t care about the species.”  
“How many?”

“He wanted eight, but I could only get six in the time I had.” Tears welled again. “I didn’t want to do it. And he didn’t pay me.”  
“He didn’t pay you?” Rurke’s tone clearly showed his disbelief. “Then why did you do it?”  
“Because he threatened to take my young daughters if I didn’t, all five of them. The youngest is only three…”  
The broker sighed and offered a slow nod. “I understand.” he said sympathetically. “Family is important.” His expression hardened somewhat as he asked, “But why did Lannit come to you? How did he know you?”  
The male’s head bowed and shame coloured his skin. “Twenth had used me when I was young. My family don’t know, nobody except Twenth and Lannit Yan knew.”  
“And he threatened to disclose what Twenth had done to you unless you agreed to do what he wanted?”  
“Yes. I couldn’t let that happen; it would’ve destroyed my parents.”

“Family.” Rurke sighed and shook his head. “Why would anyone make themselves so vulnerable.”  
The male looked at the broker with curiosity. “You have no family?”  
“No.” Rurke replied flatly. He was lying; however, his captive would never know that.  
“I pity you.” The younger male said.  
The comment angered Rurke, but he resisted the urge to punish his victim for it. His restraint was further tested as the male added, “You aren’t complete until you have a family.”  
The painstik hummed as it powered up. The broker lifted it as he gave thought to taking out his anger on the helpless male. The victim whimpered and the sound, soft though it was, reached the viridian. He lowered the device and switched it off. An image of family flashed in his mind. He quickly shoved it aside.  
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Then I will remain incomplete.”

Taking a small controller from his pocket, Rurke pressed a button and the restraints that had immobilised the male released.  
The captive stared unbelieving at his sudden freedom.  
“I told you I would let you go if you were honest with me.” Rurke smiled. “You are free to go.” He held up a cautioning hand. “But I strongly advise you take the necessary measures to leave this sector and adopt an extremely low profile. Though I doubt Lannit Yan will have the time, or the inclination, to take any retributive action against you, should he become aware of your disclosures to me, it would be foolish to think it won’t happen if he gets the chance.”  
Still barely comprehending his good fortune, the young male stammered his agreement and his gratitude. After he’d left, Rurke returned to his ship and made preparations to leave. “I’m coming, Lannit Yan.” He thought coldly. “I hope you’re ready.”

Jean-Luc nodded slowly as Will described his plan. What the younger man was saying was no more or less than what Jean-Luc had already thought himself. When Will finished, Jean-Luc gave him an encouraging smile.  
“Good, rational thinking, Number One. Why endanger the ship and her crew if you don’t have to?”  
Will smiled his acceptance of his CO’s endorsement. “The only hiccup I foresee is obtaining the right sort of privately-owned vessel.” Will said, his brow furrowing.  
Jean-Luc tilted his head in thought. “I take you’re referring to the size and capabilities of the craft?”  
“Yes.” Will nodded. “It needs to be fairly innocuous looking but have interior space we can use for holding any captives. It needs to be able to achieve and maintain at least warp 6, and if we can find something that has somedecent weapons and shields? That’d be great. I really don’t want to go headfirst into a bad situation under armed and unprotected.”

“Agreed.” Jean-Luc replied quietly. “Time’s an enemy too. We can’t devote too long to our search for a suitable vessel.”  
“Yeah. And then there’s the damn secrecy thing. Whoever owns the ship is going to have to be lied to.”  
“Indeed. Our identities will have to be falsified as well.” Jean-Luc was silent for a moment before a sly smile appeared. “I’ve just had a thought, Will.”  
The acting captain’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”  
“Yes. I believe I might know someone who could supply the kind of ship we need.”  
“Really?” Will’s hopes rose. “And this person is trustworthy?”

“Absolutely.” Jean-Luc’s smile faded to be replaced by a frown. “It’ll take a day or two to make contact, though.”  
Will shrugged as he replied, “Well, the Enterprise is due to leave McKinley in three days. I intend to send her off on a scientific study, somewhere in the opposite direction to the one I suspect we’re going to take.”  
“Good. I’ll organise accommodation for us somewhere out of the way and a long way from Command. Until I make contact, I won’t know how long it’ll take to get the ship … that’s provided it’s available.”  
Will held up his hand and made a common gesture. “Fingers crossed?”  
“Yes, fingers crossed, indeed. Now,” Jean-Luc stood and frowned at the doors. “I’m going to see Beverly. I’ve no doubt she’s not going to be very happy about our staying behind when the Enterprise leaves.”  
Will also stood and grimaced. “Neither is Deanna.”  
Jean-Luc placed a paternal hand on Will’s shoulder and offered a small smile. “We should be grateful they care enough to be unhappy with the situation.”  
The big man gently corrected his CO. “They more than care, Captain. They love us.”  
“They do, Will.” Jean-Luc agreed with a small smile. “As we love them.”

Deanna had found Beverly seated on a blanket in the arboretum. James was watching the head botanist repot a seedling and Beverly was nursing Elly. Deanna said nothing as she wandered over and quietly sat beside her best friend, content for a while to simply observe.  
Beverly, however, obeyed her nature as her impatience surfaced. “What is it, Deanna?”  
The counsellor raised her eyebrows in mock innocence, briefly considering trying to deflect Beverly’s blunt question. But she had to stay true to her nature too. She sighed and her expression was one of sadness. “I’m so sorry this is happening.” she said, shaking her head. “It’s the worst case of bad timing…”  
Beverly shrugged and gently laid her dozing daughter on the blanket. “Even without our recent shitty past, this mission would be deplorable, Deanna.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why do such awful jobs get handed to such good people? Has Command got some kind of culling mentality? It is Starfleet policy to kill off the good officers to help the mediocre ones improve? As if losing fine officers of good character and ability will somehow drag the plodders up to magically fill the void?”  
Deanna knew that Beverly was just venting. Her questions were largely rhetorical but there was an uncomfortable hint of justification to them. It was a difficult fact of life that more dangerous and important missions were given to the most experienced officers, that was simply the best way to achieve success.

But the rate of attrition in those individuals in the course of attempting to do what their superiors had ordered was a terrible price to pay. It had always seemed to Deanna to be counterproductive. It appeared Beverly felt the same way.  
“It’s a damned lottery, Deanna.” The doctor snorted derisively. “As each captain succeeds and gains more and more experience, so they’re given harder and harder missions. At some stage, their luck has must run out. Then what?”  
Deanna felt she had to say something placatory, but the trouble was she agreed with her friend. Still, she had to try. “Plenty of fine captains go on to become equally fine admirals, Beverly.”  
“True.” The doctor conceded. “But they’re not flying starships any more, are they. Could you see Jean-Luc behind a desk, in some bland office at Command?”  
Deanna shrugged. “There’s always an ambassadorship.”  
Beverly’s look was one of frank disbelief. “Oh, yeah, right. And do you honestly think, as an ambassador, he’d be given anything other than the most difficult and dangerous jobs?”  
“No.” Deanna admitted quietly. 

“No.” Beverly confirmed. “And that’s because he’s so damned good at his fucking job!” she hissed quietly before sending James a comforting smile when her tone had caught his attention.  
Deanna sensed the approach of her captain and easily felt his disquiet. She rose and gave Beverly’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll come by later, after dinner, to talk to you both.”  
The counsellor left before Beverly could say anything and, as she passed Jean-Luc, she gave him a sympathetic smile. He replied with a small smile as he continued on his way.  
As he came into Beverly’s sight, she glanced up and sent a perfunctory smile. He sighed and sat beside her, casting a tender look at their daughter.  
James saw his father and caught his attention by saying loudly, “Look, papa! I’m prerotting!” He immediately frowned, knowing he’d misspoken. Jean-Luc grinned and supplied quietly, “I think you mean repotting.”  
“Yes!” James chuckled and then nodded when he saw his father make a shh gesture. He understood and said in a much quieter voice, “This plant can be better with more room.”  
Jean-Luc nodded, then turned his attention to his wife. He had given some thought as to how to begin his conversation, but now that he was with her, he felt that no matter how he began, Beverly was going to be upset. He couldn’t change what he was about to impart, so he decided, on the spur of the moment, to simply state the facts.

“The Enterprise leaves McKinley in 3 days.” he stated quietly. “When she goes, Will and I are going to remain here, on Earth.”  
Rather than the anger he’d thought he’d be subjected to, the sadness in his wife’s eyes and the sagging of her shoulders proved much harder to bear.  
She seemed to give some thought to what he’d told her before sighing despondently. “Nothing I say will change your mind?”  
Jean-Luc shook his head in silence.  
“Then there’s no point in discussing it, is there. You’ve made up your mind, it’s a done deal.” There was a bitterness in her voice that stabbed deeply into his heart. He felt he needed to explain.

“Beverly, you know that Command has deemed the ship and her crew as expendable in the pursuit of this mission. Will has decided those stakes are too high, and I agree with him. So, in order to protect the Enterprise and those who serve on her, we’re going to remove ourselves from her sphere of influence. By carrying out the mission as individuals, the ship won’t be threatened.”  
Beverly nodded, yet remained cool towards her husband. “I can see the sense of that, but it means you won’t have any backup. If Command was willing to risk the Enterprise, then that tells me that the mission is unlikely to succeed without her.” She shook her head as she said, “And that means it’s become a suicide mission. In all probability neither you nor Will are going to return.”  
She snorted and shook her head again. “How ironic.” she said defeatedly. “I was just talking to Deanna about Command’s penchant for killing off its finest commanders. I didn’t know that my husband was willing to do the job for them.”  
“Beverly…”

She held up a hand to silence him. “Don’t, Jean-Luc. I understand the logic, that the lives of the billions in danger are worth more than the lives of the few who might save them, but it’s difficult to see that dispassionately when one of the few is my husband and the father of my children, and the other a dear friend.”  
She stood and then picked Elly up. Giving Jean-Luc a sorrowful look, she said quietly, “I’m going back to our quarters to change Elly and put her down for a nap. You stay here for a while with James. Your time together has just become even more precious.”  
All Jean-Luc could do was nod. The lump in his throat was preventing any speech.

Lannit Yan was sweating as he watched the Orion fighter craft swoop low over the treetops. The subsonic emissions coming from the ship made the trees shiver, sending down a shower of leaves and twigs. Lannit felt it within his body and it made him swallow dryly.  
He knew what would happen to him should the Orions find him, and he was confused when he felt his cock begin to stiffen. Even though he was frightened by what images he was summoning, with himself being the victim of the protracted brutality he was aware the Orions used when punishing anyone, his mind obviously enjoyed the imagery.  
A grim smile slowly spread across his face as he thought up ways to incorporate the tortures, he envisaged for himself into his existing abuse methods. 

It came as no surprise that he quickly freed his cock and began to furiously masturbate. After he’d ejaculated twice, he rechecked his passive sensors and noted the search grid pattern of the four ships.  
He moved further down the gently sloping underground tunnel and entered a small alcove in which was stored food and water. He would eat the food uncooked as any energy used to prepare the food would be detected by the ships above.  
He’d been hiding in the old mine for a week. The entire area was honeycombed with mines and many were interconnected. It made the perfect place to disappear into. He seriously doubted anyone would find him.  
There were downsides, however. One was the emissions detection. Until the Orions gave up and left the planet, he was unable to continue his search for the Tholian’s wealth, nor could he keep a watch for Rurke. He suspected the broker was getting close, but as it was his opinions of the Orion’s unsuccessful efforts, Lannit felt confident the viridian wouldn’t find him.

The other was the lack of any females. The three he’d brought with him were now dead, and even though he dragged the bodies to a deep, cold area of the mine, the smell of their rotting corpses was beginning to irritate him.  
He’d tried to restrain himself, to ration his sexual abuse of the females, but once he began, he found he couldn’t stop. In the space of 12 hours he’d raped, sexually tortured, and killed all of them.  
There had been times in his life when he’d endured long periods of time without any sexual release and he grinned wolfishly as he recalled how magnificent he was when breaking a long sexual drought. It almost made the abstinence worth it. Almost.  
He chuckled as he ate, deciding he would leave the planet as soon as he deemed it safe to do so and he’d go directly to the breeding stock.  
“Yes.” he said with determination. “I’ll just take one.” He rubbed his hands together, presupposing the fun that awaited. “I can already hear her screaming.” His cock stiffened again.

The Tholian tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as the information scrolled across the screen. He was reading the results of Rurke’s ship’s scans. What he saw caused an uneasy feeling to wash over him. It was rare that he ever felt anything like that, and the sensation angered him. But until he could solve this mystery, he could do nothing about it. The first thing he had to do was to determine if a ship was there, lurking unseen and undetectable.  
He trusted Rurke’s instincts. If the broker said he was being hunted, then the Tholian believed him. But by whom and how? If the hunters had at their disposal a ship that could be undetectable to the scanners and sensors of Rurke’s ship, then it was indeed, a serious state of affairs  
The Tholian had made sure his broker had the best technology available. It seemed there was better tech available to others that he was completely unaware of. And that was an alarming realisation. The Tholian had always kept ahead of both enemies and competitors by not only purchasing the best, but also paying for the development, the cutting edges of technology.

It seemed almost impossible that someone had developed tech that he was unaware of and that was clearly superior.  
He gave thought to the most likely suspects. Of the three he thought might be capable, one stood out. The Federation had always had the advantage of having many member worlds. By joining forces, they managed to pool their intellectual resources in an almost endless array of ways. Whether it be better farming practice, medicine, or technology, having minds that were different, yet brilliant, and politically and philosophically aligned, was a huge advantage.  
The Tholian nodded slowly as he considered how he could get the information he needed. It wasn’t an impossible task, but it would be exceptionally dangerous for whoever did it. The Tholian sighed as he realised it would be significantly expensive as well.  
“Individuals put too much value on their lives.” he sighed philosophically. “I should get a group of likely candidates and train them. That way they’d know they aren’t unique and that anyone of the group could do the same job. It would level the playing field and greatly lower my expenses.”  
He grunted with discontent. With his preferred employee, Rurke, otherwise engaged, the Tholian was going to have to cast a wide net to find the right person for the intended job. It annoyed him that he couldn’t use Rurke. Over the many years of his employments he’d shown diligence and a level of professionalism that the Tholian had come to trust and admire.  
He briefly considered pulling him from the apprehension of Lannit Yan, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. He wanted Lannit and the only one he felt confident to get him was Rurke.  
“No.” The Tholian murmured softly. “You stay on Lannit’s trail, Rurke. I’ll find someone else to liberate the Federation’s secrets.”

Katya had finally managed to meet with her informant. The rooftop garden was busy with people seeking fresh air and light refreshments from the kiosk. The woman seemed nervous as they took seats at a small table under a bower of wisteria. The perfume was lovely, but neither woman noticed.  
“I’d rather meet you somewhere a little less public.” the woman said as she glanced about, brushing her fringe distractedly.  
Katya sighed and waved away the comment. “There’s safety in the anonymity of a popular venue. Meeting privately raises more suspicions than it avoids.”  
“Fine.” There was irritation present in the reply. “So, why are we meeting?”  
Katya’s smile was cold. “I want to know everything there is to know about Sally McCormack.”  
The woman’s eyes widened, and then she snorted with wry amusement. “Yeah, you and everyone else.”  
“Meaning?”

“Meaning that bitch has so many fucking enemies, and I mean that literally, and figuratively. You’d have to get in the queue. Everybody wants to get something they can use against her.”  
Katya gave that some thought before saying, “Is it a case of an inability to get any damning information, or fear or retribution? Because I simply don’t believe she hasn’t amassed a shitload of enemies.”  
“Probably a bit of both.” The woman sighed.  
Katya had given a lot of thought to this meeting and had already decided to test the waters with Tom’s suspicions. She gauged the moment and asked, “Has there ever been any scuttlebutt about Sally and her uncle?”  
She knew immediately that she’d struck gold when the woman’s eyes widened, and she gaped. She recovered quickly, but not fast enough. She looked around nervously before whispering, “I think I should go.”  
She began to rise when Katya reached out and took hold of the woman’s wrist. “Sit down!” she hissed. Once the woman was seated, Katya took a steadying breath and tried to stay calm. “Look,” she said quietly but earnestly. “I know you’re scared, but if you know anything, please tell me.”

The woman closed her eyes and grimaced. “Scared is putting it mildly.”  
Allowing a small silence, Katya tried again. “Tom Chalmers told me something Carl McCormack said to him that roused his concerns. If what he now suspects is true, then Sally McCormack might be the bitch she is because of what her uncle’s done to her.”  
“I like Tom,” the woman sighed wistfully. She then seemed to gather her thoughts. “Carl McCormack has a history of sexual abuse. Mostly young girls. He was incarcerated at one time, years ago, but he’s become such a pivotal player in the corporate WD field that his records have been … buried. And no one, I mean no one, dares say anything. Not the authorities, not Starfleet, not the Federation Council, and certainly not any staff member in any of his companies.”  
“So, he’s a paedophile.” Katya murmured with obvious disgust. “Was he ever convicted of abusing his niece, or anyone else?”  
The woman shrugged. “I don’t know, although I doubt it. McCormack’s younger brother was Sally’s father, but he died early in her life. McCormack took her and her mother in, but the mother disappeared not long after.”  
“Suspiciously?”

Again, the woman shrugged. “No one knows, mainly because no one’s brave enough to investigate, at least not thoroughly. Apparently, there was a note explaining why the mother took off, and over the years there’s been some random contact, but nothing that could be verified as coming from the mother. It could’ve come from anybody.”  
“And I take it there was no evidence of foul play?”  
“Nope, none.”  
“Hmm. Very convenient, though, isn’t it? Both parents out of the way and a young child now resides with her pervert uncle.” Katya’s expression was sour.  
Having broached the woman’s reluctance to speak about Sally, Katya encouraged her to say more. “Have you ever seen or heard anything specifically about what McCormack and Sally might be doing?”  
Sadness marred the usually pleasant features of the woman. “I think I may have seen some evidence of the aftermath.” Katya said nothing and the woman continued. “I saw her cleaning blood from her … you know, her private bits … and she was really flustered and said it was her period, but I know for a fact that she’s had a hysterectomy ages ago.”  
“Really?” Katya was surprised, and then, suddenly saddened. “If Sally was being abused by her uncle, he may have insisted on sterilisation.” she thought silently. “Either that, or he’d damaged her too badly to repair successfully.”  
Katya redirected her attention to her companion. “Do you think there’s any correlation between Sally’s success with male staff members and her uncle’s sudden interest in the same staff?”  
This time the woman didn’t reply, instead giving Katya a long look.

The former Starfleet officer smiled an apology. “Yes, Tom.” Katya confirmed with a sigh. “He was summoned to McCormack’s office a few days ago and praised, then told that a sponsorship might be offered in 12 months’ time.”  
Katya’s expression easily carried her sadness as she continued, “Tom, of course, was delighted, however, he was also wary. He was right to be. As McCormack was walking Tom to the lift, he casually informed Tom that Sally was in need of an escort for an upcoming event. He accepted, knowing that he’d have to become her fuckmate as well.”  
“Oh my God.” The woman sighed, shaking her head. “Sally went to see her uncle around then. She doesn’t go often, but after she does, she suddenly has a new boyfriend in tow.”  
Katya grimaced. “So, she goes to her uncle, asks for his help in getting the beau toujours, then what? Pays for his assistance by allowing him to fuck her?”  
“Maybe not allow? Maybe she just endures whatever he wants to do to her?”  
“Well if anything’s going to make you bitter and twisted, that’d do it.” Katya remarked sourly. “The thing is, can any evidence be obtained to prove it? I seriously doubt Sally would admit to what’s probably been going on for a long time.”  
“There’s always evidence.” The woman muttered quietly. “The trouble is getting the authorities to act on it. Sally’s an adult now and unless she makes a complaint, the powers that be aren’t going to be willing to investigate at the risk of losing Global Warp Technologies.”

“But would they lose it?” Katya wondered aloud. “If it’s so important, surely there’d be laws in place, some kind of Fed Council strategy to protect such a vital industry? And besides, there are other WD companies, and Starfleet itself is right up there in WD research and development. Perhaps taking McCormack out of the picture mightn’t be a bad thing. It’d give others the chance to catch the attention of those who seem to have very deep pockets.”  
“And access to unaligned customers.” The woman added thoughtfully.  
“Yeah, you’re right.” There was a small silence before the informant said, “So, evidence. It’ll be difficult, but not impossible. However, it will’ll be dangerous. If McCormack gets any hint that anyone’s poking around…”  
“Then we make sure he doesn’t get any hint.” Katya sounded confident, but she was nervous.  
The woman offered a small smile. “So, I can leave now?” Her tone was slightly wry. Katya nodded and kept her tone even. “Yes. I’ll be in touch.”  
Nothing more was said as the woman left. Katya stayed another 30 minutes, deep in thought, before she too left and returned to work.

Once Beverly had reached her quarters, she wasted no time in contacting Deanna. The counsellor had been waiting for the call and was pleased her friend had made it. She hurried to the Picard’s quarters, already forming a strategy to help. A method of treatment she felt would help Beverly, and maybe even her husband, cope with the latest emotional upheaval.  
She wasn’t prepared for what Beverly said the moment she was granted entry.  
“When this ship leaves McKinley, I won’t be going with her. The kids and I will be staying on Earth.”  
Deanna’s step faltered and, as she took a seat in the living area, she scrambled to adjust her predetermined therapy. “Are you sure that’s wise?” Was all she could come up with initially, but she quickly regrouped. “Will you be staying with the captain?”  
Beverly shrugged, her anger simmering just under the surface. “No. For starters I have no idea where he’s going to stay and secondly, I’m too damned mad at him at the moment.” She made an effort to calm herself. “It’d be best if we billeted apart, Deanna. Besides, he can’t go into the details of his mission.”

Deanna noted she’d said, his mission. Technically, it was Will’s mission, though it was true that Jean-Luc was an integral part of it, and the acting captain had sought advice from his CO about how they should proceed. The counsellor decided to let it pass.  
“Ok, yes, I can see how it would be best to keep apart, but do you really feel it’s necessary to stay when the ship leaves?” Deanna gave Beverly the opportunity to reply, but when she didn’t, Deanna sighed. “I just want you to be sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.”  
Pulling her mouth to one side, Beverly shook her head. “There are a lot of reasons why it’s a good idea, Deanna. I guess what’s most important is that I want Jean-Luc to know that while he’s involved in this ill-conceived farce, his wife and children will be safe.”  
Deanna nodded slowly, all the while studying her friend and sorting through the mélange of tumultuous emotions she was experiencing. She arrived at her conclusion quickly. “And in doing so, afford him the luxury of little or no distraction.” Deanna concluded with quiet sadness.

Beverly rose from her seat and began to stalk around the room. “Once I knew the Enterprise had been deemed expendable, I knew that if we were on board when she left the dock, he’d be worried sick about it. This mission is unlikely to succeed, or, if it does, it’ll probably be at the expense of those undertaking it. It may come down to some crucial moment, where critical thinking is vital. A moment’s errant thought, a lapse in concentration, could be the error that ends a life.”  
“True enough.” Deanna nodded slowly. “And, of course, leaving the ship with the children gives you some insulation too.”  
Beverly eyebrows rose and her eyes glittered dangerously. Deanna offered a placatory smile. “It’s not a criticism, Beverly, or an insult. What you said makes sense and being on Earth gives you opportunities to quietly keep tabs on what’s going on. You won’t get any real-time news, but you’ve been in Starfleet long enough to have established a personal grapevine.” She smiled gently. “We all have.”  
Beverly found a smile, then her eyes widened as an idea struck her. “Stay.” she blurted.  
Deanna frowned and she said cautiously, “What?”

Beverly grinned and retook her seat. “Stay on Earth with me and the kids. We can combine our efforts in keeping track of the mission.”  
At first, Deanna began to shake her head, dismissing the idea. But as she turned the suggestion over in her mind, she began to see it had merits. A smile crept across her face as she gave Beverly a wry look. “How long have you been incubating that thought?” she asked, a trace of humour colouring her voice.  
“No time at all.” Beverly chuckled. “It’s only just occurred to me.”  
It did Deanna a power of good to see such a delighted smile on her friend’s face and feel the genuine warmth emanating from her. “It’s a good idea, Beverly, and as I have the medical authority to order you to take leave, I can also accompany you as your therapist.”

“Good thing, too.” Beverly said quietly. “But I think I’ll be comforting you as much as you’ll be comforting me. Who knows how long the damned mission will take?”  
“Agreed. I’ll lodge the notification of leave. You’d best pack.”  
Deanna’s mind was busy as she plotted her next moves.

Rurke was a patient man. Long association with the types of beings he regularly dealt with had inured him to the frustrations that accompanied a difficult task. Although the Tholian had been his main employer over his lengthy career, Rurke had experienced others, beings who hired him to perform many and varied jobs. But in nearly all instances, the broker knew that impatience hindered, rather than helped, in achieving success.  
He was also well aware that in order to reach his goal, it was wise to make use of all the available information he could glean. Even intel that seemed, at first glance, useless. He was still pursuing Lannit Yan, but the trail was becoming somewhat convoluted. Rurke pondered this, sifting through what he knew so far and smiled as he arrived at a very elegant solution. A grin appeared, creasing his faceface, and affording him an almost friendly appearance.  
“Ah, Lannit, I believe I know what you’ve done … and why you sought to hide on N’arrig.” The broker nodded to himself as he went to his navigation console. His smile faded and his eyes gleamed with hunger as he began to input some coordinates. “You wanted me to go to N’arrig. You were trying to lure me into a trap.” He sighed and shook his head. “Clever, Lannit, but not nearly clever enough.”  
After inputting the new course and speed, Rurke had his ship carry out some extreme long-range scans. He smiled with grim satisfaction when the results were displayed. “Good. You stay put, Lannit. I won’t bother you. Yet.”  
Rurke’s ship turned lazily in a graceful arc and made the jump to a higher warp. The viridian raised his head and grimaced as the now expected sensations slithered up and down his spine. His invisible hunter had faithfully followed him.

Will looked up from his monitor and silently observed his captain. “You’re showing your age.” Will thought silently as he sighed with sadness. Jean-Luc Picard was always a fit, vital, and dynamic man, carrying his advancing years with ease. It wasn’t often he showed any overt signs of stress, but recent events had taken a great deal out of him, causing weight loss and that, coupled with broken sleep, had changed his appearance quite dramatically, given him a gaunt, haunted appearance.  
The current mission made Will scowl, knowing how that too was conspiring to rob the older man of what little remained of his stamina, both mental and physical.  
An unwanted thought occurred to Will, shocking him. “What if he fails at some crucial point?” The big man mused. He was disgusted with himself for even considering such a notion. The Jean-Luc Picard he knew would never let fatigue or worry get in the way of successfully completing a mission.

But then Will made a mental reassessment and asked himself, “But is he the Jean-Luc Picard I know? So much has happened, so much has been taken from him … done to him…”  
His musings were interrupted by his CO’s deep voice. “It seems we might be in luck.”  
Suddenly giving himself a mental shake, Will redirected his focus. “Luck, sir?”  
A slight frown marred Jean-Luc’s brow as he realised his exec had been distracted. What troubled him was that he felt he knew by what. Savagely casting those thoughts aside, Jean-Luc had to strive to keep his voice even.  
“It would seem we’ve had success in getting hold of the ship I had in mind.”  
“Oh!” Will exclaimed. “That is a stroke of good fortune.”

“Indeed. We’ll have to wait three or four days before we can take possession of it, but I feel we could use that time to our advantage.”  
“Yes.” Will agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “I’ve one or two people I want to talk to. They could prove to be immensely helpful.”  
Jean-Luc’s gaze was steady as he remined Will, “No one can be implicated, Number One.”  
“I know that, Captain.” Will smiled to let his CO know he meant no disrespect. “Of the two I’m thinking of, I think only one is known to be what he says he is. The other?” Will shrugged. “I doubt anyone knows the truth about what he does.”  
“Very well, it’s your mission, Will. Do what you think best.”

“Thank you, Captain, I appreciate your support.” The big man stood and arched his back, pressing his fingers into the small of his spine.  
Jean-Luc watched with a ghost of a smile. It crept into his eyes. “Feeling your age, Will?”  
Considering Will’s earlier thoughts, he had to mask the unease the question provoked. Instead he offered a rueful grin. “Yeah. Sitting too long makes my back ache.”  
Jean-Luc moved towards the cabin door as he remarked with dry humour, “There are some advantages to having less height and body mass.”  
Will suppressed a laugh and shook his head as he followed the older man outside. “If you say so, sir.”  
“I do.”

Both men stood in silence, admiring the stunning view. “It’s early spring here.” Jean-Luc eventually said as he drew in a deep breath. As he exhaled there was a slight wisp of condensation visible.  
“What made you choose here, Captain?”  
“The Victorian high country?” Jean-Luc gazed out over the blueish bush that thinned as it gave way to alpine grasses, stretching out over the vast mountains. “I’ve been here before. I’ve skied here in the winter, and hiked in the summer. Somehow, it affords me an odd sense of peace. It’s as if the timelessness of this land has seeped into my bones.”  
He sighed and shook his head. “That’s not to say I don’t feel completely connected to France. That will always be my home … where my roots are. But this…” He left the thought unfinished.  
Will gazed out towards the misty horizon and nodded. “I think I know what you mean, sir. I get that feeling in Alaska. It may be that the land is so old. Australia is an ancient land mass. I guess timeless is a good way to describe it.”  
Having given a brisk nod, Jean-Luc rubbed his hands to warm them. “Night is creeping over the land, Will. I’ll unpack the hover car. We’ll be needing wood for the fire, how about you take care of that?”  
“Of course, Captain.” Will began to turn, but hesitated. “Do you think it’ll snow, sir?”

Jean-Luc shrugged. “It’s not forecast, but I think there’ll be a heavy frost. The weather can change rapidly at this altitude here. Best we prepare for anything.”  
“Understood.”  
Jean-Luc gave one more lingering look over the land, now turning a deep mauve to purple in the fading light of the setting sun. He opened the hatch of the hover car and, as he began to unpack it, a stray thought occurred. “The beauty of my home planet can rival anything I’ve encountered in space.”  
The thought shocked him somewhat. He’d never considered that anything could be compared with the wonders of space. “It’s not Will who’s feeling his age.” he mused with disgruntled irritation. He then refocused his attention and continued his task as the sound of a manual wood splitter hitting the hard, dry, gnarled rounds of timber echoed across the valleys below.

Two days had passed, and Katya hadn’t seen Sally, and for that she was grateful. Even medicated, Katya found it difficult to resist the urge to hit the woman. There was something about her, her appearance maybe, or perhaps her perpetual look of smugness that made anger spike in the WD specialist.  
Katya was deeply involved in the lab, trying to bend the laws of physics, so when her concentration was shattered by a loud snort from one of the lab techs, she turned to give an admonishment. She’d asked for quiet and no interruptions.  
What she saw made her grit her teeth so hard she briefly wondered if they would crack.  
Sally stood beside a technician, the male barely stifling a laugh over some shared titbit, although as soon as he saw Katya’s cold anger, he schooled his features and put some distance between himself and the focus of her obvious distaste.  
Sally stood, arms folded, eyes heavy lidded, her lip curled with spite. Somehow, Katya summoned an even voice. “What are you doing here?” she asked.  
Offering an offhand, one shoulder shrug, Sally made a vague gesture with her hand. “I just came down to chat with my friends. Update them with the latest goss.”

“You came down to the labs to spread gossip?” Katya’s tone was derisive. “How typical of you.”  
Sally’s eyes gleamed. “No, not spread gossip.” She sent an ugly smile. “To confirm it.”  
She pushed away from a bench and sauntered closer. “After all, shouldn’t people have a right to know who they’re working with? I mean, if they’re working under someone who was willing to allow their cunt to be used as a way to get a career boost…”  
Katya had heard enough. She shoved her monitor aside, rounded the bench and in three quick strides, was standing in front of Sally, her lab coat lapels bunched in her hands. “You bitch.” she hissed. “You shut your fucking mouth.”  
Fear made Sally’s pupils dilate, but there was also triumph in her expression. “I never mentioned your name, Kurnov. What’s the problem? Feeling guilty?”  
Sally never saw the fist that smashed flush on her nose, nor did she see the other that slammed into the side of her jaw, breaking it audibly. She sank to the floor, dazed and semi-conscious, but with a smile on her face.

Two strong arms encircled Katya from behind and a male voice growled, “Enough Kurnov! If you don’t stop this unprovoked attack on Ms. McCormack, I’ll have to render you unconscious.”  
“Unprovoked?” Katya struggled to say. “Unprovoked?”  
The tech loosened his arms. “Yes, unprovoked.!” He insisted. “Unless you’re admitting that you’re the person she was talking about and that what Ms. McCormack said about you was true.”  
He let Katya go and, as he watched two other techs helping Sally to her feet, he said snidely, “Of course that still wouldn’t give you the right to attack her. But it would give us the right to refuse to work with you, though.”  
He stepped back and ran his eyes up and down her with undiluted insolence. “Some of us have standards. You know, morals.” he sneered as he added, “But I doubt you’d know what morals are, if what Sally said is true.”  
Katya stood, open-mouthed in shock as the four techs turned as one and left the room. Just outside the doors she saw the tech who had spoken to her touch Sally’s shoulder and grin before giving the bleeding woman a thumbs up sign.  
Katya knew at that moment her position as a WD specialist at Global Warp Technologies was no longer tenable.  
She had packed up her belongings in her office when an administration assistant appeared with a message from Carl McCormack. She was indeed fired from her job and the police were on their way.

Tom was pacing restlessly outside Katya’s building when his land communicator began to light up with several messages. He read them with rapidly increasing alarm and dread.  
He sprinted to his flitter and headed straight for the local police station while, at the same time, he contacted a lawyer. If what he’d read was true, Katya was going to need one. An exceptionally good one if the McCormacks applied all their significant legal and political clout to destroy his friend.  
He parked his flitter and was about to hurry inside when a sudden thought occurred to him. Before he could analyse it, he carried through with it. He contacted Starfleet Command and requested a meeting with Deanna Troi. His face fell when he was told she had taken leave on Earth and had instructed that she was not to be disturbed. In desperation, Tom made it clear it was an emergency and that the counsellor would want to know what had occurred.  
He pleaded to the calm face on the screen, hoping his own face and expression, with his earnest words, would sway her. Finally, when he was just about to give up and accept defeat, the slightly annoyed ensign shook her head and gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Very well!” she managed to glare half-heartedly. “I’ll contact the counsellor, but if I catch any grief over this…”  
“You won’t!” Tom assured her. “I promise you won’t.”  
“Yeah, I bet.” The women sighed. “What’s your name again?”  
“Chalmers. Dr. Tom Chalmers.”  
“And the other person?”  
“Katya Kurnov.”  
“Kurnov. Right, I’ve got it. I’ll contact the counsellor now. She’ll either reply to your land comm or not. Her choice.”  
“Understood.” Tom smiled. “And thank you, thanks so much.”  
He didn’t see the ensign wave his gratitude away. He’d already ended the call and was hurrying into the police station. Once inside and having stated his reason for being there, he was ushered into a tastefully decorated room to wait for the station sergeant to meet with him.

He wasn’t kept waiting long. A pleasant-looking middle aged women entered, carrying a PADD in her hand. She was in uniform and looked business-like and intelligent. Tom rose and offered his hand.  
“Tom Chalmers.” he said politely.  
The officer smiled as she shook his hand and gave a nod. “Sergeant Vivien Price. You’re Doctor Tom Chalmers, if I’m not mistaken.”  
It wasn’t a question and Tom managed to quell his unease at the speed of his identification, although he shouldn’t have been surprised. Having worked at GWT, his image had been scanned into a Federation-wide data bank. As soon as he’d entered the building, those inside knew who he was, in fact, they were privy to a great deal of information about him almost instantly.  
A sympathetic smile from the sergeant eased Tom’s mind. “You’re here about Katya Kurnov.” The officer stated. “A former colleague at Global Warp Technologies.” As she said this, she activated the PADD. “Do you have any information pertaining to the case?”  
“There’s a case?”

The officer’s expression was closed. “Dr. Kurnov has been charged with the unprovoked, aggravated assault against Ms. Sally McCormack. She has admitted her guilt and was charged an hour ago.”  
Tom struggled to find his way. He said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re aware she suffers from mental problems?”  
Wariness caused the sergeant to frown. “Mental problems? No, I didn’t. What kind of problems?”  
Tom had to decide how much of what he knew to tell. He settled on an abridged version and no names of the other parties.  
When he finished speaking the officer nodded slowly. “This changes things somewhat.”  
“In what way?” Tom asked hopefully.

“Well, if what you told me can be corroborated, then at the very least it’s a mitigating factor. If it’s true, then the attack wasn’t necessarily unprovoked. Also, it means that Ms. Kurnov cannot be held here, in detention or otherwise. There are strict protocols for dealing with people who may be suffering with psychological issues.”  
“So, what do you do?”  
“We take them to a hospital to be assessed and treated as deemed appropriate. If detention is required, then it’s in a safe and supporting facility within the hospital.”  
“That would be great, Sergeant. Katya needs help. I’ve contacted a counsellor she knows.” Tom hedged.  
Price’s eyebrows rose. “This counsellor can corroborate your story?”  
“Yes…” Tom hesitated, and the sergeant sighed. “Dr. Chalmers, if you have something to say, then please, say it.”

Tom sighed and frowned in worry. “There are circumstances and people involved that I can’t identify.” He held up his hands. “I know how that sounds, Sergeant Price. I’m not being melodramatic, it really is a sensitive issue for all involved, but if the counsellor replies to my request for a meeting, with you included now, then she may well decide to fill in the parts I can’t.”  
“Very well.” Price said crisply, clearly unhappy with Tom’s reticence. “In the meantime, I’ll have Ms. Kurnov transported to the nearest hospital That’s the least we can do for now.”  
“Thank you.” Tom smiled. He then tested the sergeant’s patience by asking, “May I accompany her? For support?”  
Price’s stare was a long and uncomfortable one, although Tom could find no malice in it. This was proved correct when the woman sighed and gave a nod. “All right, Dr Chalmers. You’ll have to use your own transport, but yes, you can be with Ms. Kurnov at the hospital. Just follow whatever we use to take her there.”  
The sergeant turned to leave but turned back to add, “However, should any medical staff member decide that you should leave, you must obey instantly and without protest or complaint. If you don’t, you’ll be arrested and charged with obstruction. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Sergeant.” Tom replied respectfully.  
With one final nod, Price left the room. Tom left too. He took a seat in the foyer to wait to be advised as to when Katya was to be transported. The officer in reception assured him it would be soon.  
He was deep in thought, trying to find ways to help Katya when his land comm chirped quietly. He briefly considered ignoring it, but he quickly realised that was foolish. He extracted it from his pocket and glanced at its screen. When he saw who was contacting him, he almost dropped the device in his haste to answer.  
“Counsellor Troi!” he blurted, then took a short moment to compose himself. In a steadier, milder voice he said, “Counsellor Troi, thank you so much for responding.”  
Deanna’s voice carried a slight wariness. “The message I received stated your situation was one of urgency?”  
“Yes.” Tom responded, careful to stay calm. “There’s been an incident. Katya’s been charged with aggravated assault and is soon to be transported to a hospital for assessment.”  
The screen of Tom’s land comm suddenly showed a real time vision of Deanna. He saw how worried she was and when she murmured, “Damn.” He heard it too.  
“Indeed.” he concurred. “I’m at the local police station now, it only happened a couple of hours ago. “The police were unaware of Katya’s … problems. I gave them a brief overview … no names … and the sergeant said that the initial allegation of unprovoked aggravated assault could be mitigated if what I’d told them could be corroborated.”

“And you want me to do that?”  
“Yes. But even if you won’t,” he held up a placatory hand and clarified, “or can’t corroborate my story, at least you might be able to help Katya?” He rubbed his face and sighed. “She needs someone, Counsellor. A medical professional to help her, someone who knows what happened…”  
“Tom…”  
He shook his head and interrupted. “Please, Deanna! I’ve contacted a lawyer, but against the might of the McCormack family…”  
It was Deanna’s turn to halt him with a hand gesture. “It’s all right, Tom, I’ll do what I can, and that includes corroborating the circumstances, but as for helping Katya, that’s up to her.”  
“Yeah, I get that.” Tom was obviously worried. “I’ll talk to her, Counsellor, I’ll try to get her to see reason.”  
“Don’t press too hard, Tom. Katya’s in a very precarious mental state at the moment.”  
“I understand.” Tom sighed.  
“I take it she was provoked?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tom’s expression changed to one of anger. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Katya yet, but from what I’ve been told by colleagues who witnessed what happened, Sally McCormack deliberately baited her.  
“And was Katya medicated at the time?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“All right, that’s something I can look into. I’m on my way, Tom. Send me the address of the hospital and I’ll get there ASAP.”  
“Ok. Thank you, Deanna.”  
He had to terminate the call then, as the reception officer informed him the Katya was being escorted to a ground car for transport. Tom hurried to his flitter, then took up an approriate position and followed it on its journey to the hospital.

Rurke smiled as he instructed his ship to take up its position. He stared unfeeling at the planet, turning lazily below.  
He shook his head as he moved to another console. “So, Lannit Yan,” he sighed fatalistically. “Where did you hide your prizes?”  
He was sure beyond doubt that Lannit Yan had secreted the breeding stock on the planet. All he had to do was find them and then wait.  
Lannit Yan had taken great care in secreting the females and it took Rurke the better part of three days of thorough searching to find them And, to do so he had to utilise every one of his ship’s highly sophisticated systems. As much as he despised Lannit, Rurke had, once again, found cause for grudging admiration.

Once the females had been transported aboard, the broker made sure they were fed and given replicated clothing. The teens were terrified and there was little Rurke could do to ease their fears, other than successfully returning them to their home worlds. He told them that was what he intended, but he doubted they believed him.  
The viridian moved his ship, putting it in a high polar orbit and using the natural emissions from the system’s highly active sun to mask his presence.  
The ever-present sensations coursing through his body surged and then eased a little. He knew the hunters were near and had again followed him as he moved his ship. Rurke smiled grimly as the irony revealed itself. “I am being hunted while I lay in wait for Lannit.” He sighed with resignation. “I wonder if those who stalk me will wish to prolong my death as I intend to prolong his?”  
Having imputed instructions for the ship’s computer to alert him if and when Lannit’s ship entered the system, Rurke retired to his bedroom for a well-earned rest. His body was slowly losing the residual effects of his extended sexual encounter. He lay on his bed and let his eyes close. A wistful smile graced his face as he slipped into sleep, the memories of the experience laying the foundations for pleasantly erotic dreams.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Beverly asked.  
Deanna frowned as she looked for the right words of reply. “It’s not that I don’t want you do accompany me,” she began, “it’s just that I don’t think Katya will want you there.”  
Beverly shrugged and offered, “Perhaps, but we shared a lot, Deanna. Not only the bad experiences, but in between, we talked, you know…”  
“Yes.” Deanna agreed gently. “I understand what you’re saying. You feel that you formed a bond.”  
“Well, yes.”  
Deanna sighed and tried to ease any perceived hurt Beverly may experience as she said. “But, Beverly, you’re forgetting your connection to the captain. Yes, you and Katya shared a terrible experience, and the aftermath was also terrible, but you chose to stay with your husband. To Katya, he’s the perpetrator.”

On seeing the doctor’s sour expression, Deanna continued. “You know how she feels about him, Beverly. I don’t think she’s going to view you in a kind light now. She barely did before she left the ship.”  
Beverly plonked into a chair and huffed. “Look, I hear what you’re saying, and, to some extent, I agree with you. But I still think I can help.”  
Deanna summoned a smile and said with quiet sadness, “I don’t know if I can help Katya, Beverly. I’m not even sure she’ll allow me to see her, let alone allowing you to see her.”  
“It’s worth a try though, surely?” Beverly asked.  
“Oh, of course!” Deanna stated firmly. “Once Dr. Chalmers told me what’d happened, I was always going to try and do what I can. Provided Katya lets me.”  
Beverly got to her feet and Deanna saw the determination in her face. “Then let’s make it a joint effort. After all, she’s free to give me the flick. As long as she allows you to see her, it’s a win.”

Deanna’s eyes narrowed as she realised what her friend was doing. “You’re making yourself the punching bag?”  
“Why not?” Beverly exclaimed. “If Katya is willing to see us both, good. But if she gets pissed off by the thought, she just might vent her anger by denying me while allowing you to see her to make her feelings towards me crystal clear.”  
“And you’d be ok with that?”

Beverly made a dismissive gesture and scoffed. “Of course. I’ve got a thick skin, you know that.”  
“I know you can take things on the chin, Beverly, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. And you’re in a vulnerable state at the moment. I’m not convinced you won’t be further damaged by a vigorous rejection.”  
“What does it matter, Deanna?” There was a tired fatalism in the doctor’s tone. “If it works it works. If it doesn’t, no harm done. And if I don’t handle it well, then just add it to your ‘to do’ list. I’m sure we can thrash it out during therapy.”  
“While I admire your bravado, Beverly, I don’t share it.” Deanna sighed. “But I do concede you have a point. Very well, we’ll go together and hope that she’ll see both of us. If not, then I can only try to convince her to see me.”  
Beverly gave a lopsided smile and a wink. “You’ll succeed, Deanna. You could charm the birds from the trees if you put your mind to it.”  
A wry snort was Deanna’s only reply. After arranging for the children to be minded, the friends left together.

Will sat back and folded his arms. The portable comm station he’d assembled had to be outside to gain the strongest signal. It was ridiculous, Will mused sourly, that in an age of sophisticated high-tech communication devices and systems, he’d been reduced to using an antiquated and clunky comm system and freezing his arse off as he used it.  
The altitude was a favourable aspect, as was the clarity of the air, but even though he was dressed warmly, the cold was seeping in. He glared once again at the device and resent the call signal. “Come on, Juan.” he grouched. “You know I wouldn’t request contact if I didn’t need to.”  
Finally, just as Will began to shiver, the answering beep sounded. Will activated the small screen and watched as it rolled, lost the image it was trying to display, then suddenly cleared. Having checked that the red light was on, indicating an scrambled signal, Will cleared his throat as he nodded a greeting. “Juan.”  
“Will.” Juan’s reply was guarded.  
“I guess you weren’t expecting a call from me.”

“No, I wasn’t. Especially not from a ham radio set.”  
Will frowned in confusion. “A what?”  
Juan waved the question away. “Ancient radio tech. Even older than what you’re using. And why is that, by the way? What’s going on?”  
“Long story.” Will sighed. It made Juan grin.  
“I wasn’t referring to your current mission, Will, I know about that. I mean the device. My comm system’s having a seizure trying to figure out what you’re using.”  
Will chuckled, making steam swirl around his head. “It was Captain Picard’s idea. He reckoned that if we’re being watched, then the last thing anyone would think we’d use to make any contact would be this.” He gestured to the device. Juan couldn’t see it, but he grinned. 

“Trust Picard to come up with something useful.” The smile faded as he then asked, “Is he with you?”  
“Yeah.” Will nodded and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s inside. It’s freezing out here and he’s not at the top of his game right now. Also, I thought it best he wasn’t privy to our conversation. He agreed, it’s better this way.”  
“Indeed. The less he knows…”  
“Yep.” Will grunted and gave his friend a long look. “Not that I know all that much.”  
Juan pulled the corners of his mouth down and shrugged. “It’s for your own protection, Will.”  
“Hmph!” Will huffed. “Like that’s going to help if the shit hits the fan.”  
Juan shrugged again, then his eyes narrowed. “I hear the Enterprise is leaving McKinley tomorrow for a mapping survey in a distant part of space?”  
“Correct.”  
“And I hear you and Picard won’t be aboard.”  
“Also, correct.”  
“Interesting.”

Will said nothing, eventually eliciting a sigh from his friend. “Your interpretation of your orders could do with some scrutiny, Will.”  
Before the acting captain could protest, Juan made a placatory gesture with his hands and continued. “However, I happen to agree with what you’ve done. In fact…”  
He looked around, making Will think he was being deliberately comical, but what he said next quashed that thought immediately. “I’m going to give you a little head’s up.” Again, Juan studied his surroundings before saying quietly, “You have eyes on the job, Will. There are those who believe what you’re doing is right and good, but not worth the probable price to pay to achieve it. Not the loss of two fine officers and certainly not at the expense of the Enterprise. So, moves have been made to give you a back stop. This is already in place. In two hours’ time, you’ll receive a set of coordinates. Once you get the ship Picard’s secured, get to that position. There’s a broker you might like to talk to, and he’s waiting for someone you’re going to want to see.”  
Will was desperate to ask for more information, but he knew Juan would say nothing more about it. Instead he nodded and said with quiet sincerity, “Thanks, Juan.”  
“Just make sure you and Picard come back, Will. You owe me too many open bars, to check out in debt.”  
“I’ll make it a priority.” Will grinned and then terminated the link. He sat in deep thought, but not for long. He rose stiffly and, rubbing his gloved hands together, and went back inside. Jean-Luc looked up, his expression questioning. However, he said nothing, merely gesturing to a metal pot, sitting on the hearth. 

“There’s dinner, if you’re hungry.” he said quietly and added, “And I’ve warmed some bread. It goes well with the reconstituted stew.”  
“Thanks, Captain.” Will murmured as he retrieved a plate and cutlery. He dished himself a serve and ate in silence.  
After a while Jean-Luc asked, “Everything alright?”  
Will looked up and, as he dragged some bread through the juices of his meal, he smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think it is. I can’t give you details, but this mission might not be as difficult or impossible as we first thought.”  
“Well that’s welcome news.” Jean-Luc smiled. “It’s always helpful to know there’s a chance of success.”  
“Indeed.”

Another silence ensued during which both men contemplated the slowly burning fire. It was Jean-Luc who broke it. “Two more days, Number One. In two more days, we’ll have the ship, and we can begin.”  
“None too soon.” Will said as he stood and stretched. He went to the small kitchen area and washed his dishes. Once he’d dried them, he yawned expansively. “I’m beat. Bed for me.”  
“Agreed,” Jean-Luc tried to stifle a yawn and failed. “Must be the mountain air.” he smiled ruefully.  
“Yeah.” The younger man chuckled. As he went into the shared bedroom he looked back and said quietly, “We’ll have coordinates to go to when we leave.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose, and he gave an appreciative nod. “That’s good to know.”  
“Yes, sir, it certainly is.”  
The captain stayed by the fire only a further ten minutes before he too went to bed. Surprisingly, both men slept relatively well.

Lannit’s body jolted as the loud noise echoed through the tunnels. He was being hunted and the continual concussive blasts his hunters were using was fraying his already agitated nerves.  
He was safe, he knew that, and yet he kept imagining what he would suffer if he was captured. He gritted his teeth as another blast shook the tunnels and made dust float down from the ceiling, only a few centimetres above his head.  
His small, interconnected group of subterranean rooms had been shielded well. He was confident his presence couldn’t be detected. A deep sigh made Lannit’s eyes close. He felt he understood his hunters’ frustration. They must be relatively sure that he was in the vast network of mines and that, due to the fact they couldn’t find him, had encouraged them to use the concussion devices. It was old tech, yet it had the chance of successfully disclosing his location where more sophisticated technology had already failed.

But Lannit had anticipated this and had adapted the shielding to compensate. Although he could hear and feel the blasts, what the hunters’ instruments would show was empty tunnels, pits, and shafts. Indeed, the very nature of the mines and their many ill-documented workings made it impossible to search manually. It was simply too dangerous. Even given the Orions had a disposable workforce of slaves to do this kind of potentially deadly work, it wasn’t cost effective. Living slaves had the potential to generate wealth. A dead slave was worthless.  
So, Lannit sat quietly, doing his best to ignore the blasts as they occurred. He only had to wait another week or so and then he could bid goodbye to this disgusting planet and go and collect his well-earned prize. “Oh,” he whispered softly as his cock began to stiffen. “Oh, I’m so looking forward to playing some very special games.” He spent the next hour masturbating silently.

Tom spotted Deanna and rose, giving a small wave to catch her attention. As she approached, he saw she was accompanied by a taller, red-haired woman. He frowned and was still casting his eyes over this new person when Deanna spoke. “Tom.” she said, greeting him quietly.  
He dragged his eyes away from Beverly and summoned a smile. “Deanna. Thank you for coming.”  
The counsellor smiled and gestured to her best friend. “This is Dr Beverly Picard, the CMO of the Enterprise.”  
As soon as he heard the name, he softly gasped. “Picard?” he blurted.  
Beverly’s smile was tight, but she offered a small inclination of her head. “Yes. Captain Jean-Luc Picard is my husband.”  
“Oh.” Was all Tom said for a few moments. It was Deanna who decided to carry matters forward. “I think it could be a positive move to have Beverly with me when I see Katya.”  
“Maybe.” Tom replied cautiously, but his tone was doubtful. “So, what’s a CMO?”  
Deanna smiled as she replied, “It stands for chief medical officer.”  
“Oh. Ok.”

Beverly offered a shrug and a wry smile.  
“Katya may order me from the room the moment she lays eyes on me, but if she doesn’t, then I agree with Deanna. Katya and I shared a lot, Tom. I understand what she’s going through.”  
Tom frowned and shook his head as he said, “But she’s going through this because your…”  
That’s as far as he got. Deanna held up a hand and then interrupted him. “We know, Tom, and we’ll understand if Katya refuses to allow Beverly to stay, but it’s worth the effort to try. Beverly’s potential to help her is worth the risk of Katya’s rejection.”  
“Yeah, I suppose.” It was clear Tom was still unconvinced. Nevertheless, he gave a shrug and gestured down the corridor. “Her room’s this way.”  
It was only a few metres before Tom stopped and turned to look at a closed door. “So, what now?” he asked, making no attempt to announce their arrival. “Do I go in and tell her you’re here?”  
“No.” Deanna replied kindly. “We’ll enter together. She may be shocked, but it’s possible we can use that to our advantage.”  
Tom’s expression clearly showed his disbelief. “If you say so, Counsellor, but be prepared to duck. She may well throw something.”

He was only half serious and the women gave a nervous smile in response. Tom tapped on the door and, on hearing the invitation to enter, walked in slowly.  
“Hey, Katya.” he said cautiously, before gesturing to the two behind him. “I’ve brought some visitors.”  
Deanna and Beverly entered the room. Katya’s first reaction was anger, growling “What the fuck?” Deanna eased in front of Beverly and lifted her hands.  
“Katya,” she began gently, “we heard about what happened. We want to help.”  
At first Katya stayed silent. That she was angry was patently obvious and, as the increasingly charged silence went on, so the tension in the room built. Tom was about to say something in an attempt tot ease the situation, when Katya suddenly seemed to deflate. Her furious expression faded, and she sighed. “What’s the use?” she asked rhetorically. “I’m fucked anyway.”  
Deanna and Beverly ventured further into the room and Deanna pulled a chair close to the bed and seated herself. “Have you seen a staff doctor yet?”  
“Yeah, two shrinks came by half an hour ago.” She grinned and raised her eyebrows. “Gave me some happy meds.”

Beverly risked a comment. “I’m glad they did. Otherwise I might be needing some medical help for injuries incurred.”  
Deanna was inordinately pleased when Katya responded positively to the joke. “Yup. I’ve heard that removing a water jug from someone’s arse is a particularly uncomfortable experience. For all concerned.”  
Beverly responded with a grin. Tom moved closer and said quietly, “I contacted Counsellor Troi as soon as I heard, Katya.”  
She gave him a small, forgiving smile. “Probably a good idea, Tom. Thanks.”  
Deanna sat forward and asked quietly, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Katya almost resorted to sarcasm, but quickly quashed the urge. She took a deep breath and told the counsellor what had transpired. Deanna asked a few questions for clarification of some details, but eventually brought the account to a close.  
“It seems obvious that Sally McCormack deliberately provoked you.” she grimaced. “And you say you’d taken your medication?”  
“Yes. About 20 minutes before she came into the lab.”  
“And you say you saw the tech, the one who restrained you, interacting with McCormack afterwards in a way that suggests he was party to what occurred?”  
Katya shrugged. “Yes.”

“Then we have collusion as well as deliberate goading of a vulnerable person.”  
“But,” Tom interjected, “what Sally was spreading about Katya was supposed to be hush hush. How come she knew? Let alone how come she can spread it without any repercussions?”  
Beverly seated herself on the bed and said quietly, “It’s not an official secret.” she sighed in exasperation. “All of us, those who were involved, are at risk of disclosure. The JAG office has closed the case and that would normally be the end of it, but it’s not classified. Katya’s been exposed in an unscrupulous way, but not unlawfully. Any one of us could be revealed in the same way.”  
“Well that sucks!” Tom declared angrily.

“Yes, it does.” Deanna agreed. “Yet as unpalatable as McCormack’s actions were, it may help our case.”  
“How?” Katya and Tom said in unison.  
“Mitigating circumstances, especially if we can show that McCormack’s actions were deliberate, undertaken with the express intent to incite the very response Katya gave.”  
“And that’s a legitimate defence?” Katya asked.  
Deanna shrugged. “That’s a question for a lawyer, but from a medical standpoint, yes, it is. Definitely.”  
Tom then ventured, “There may be more to use against the McCormacks.” He offered a grim smile. “Katya and I have been trying to get info on Sally and her uncle. Specifically, whether or not Carl McCormack’s been sexually abusing her.”  
“Yes, you told me about that.” Deanna said thoughtfully. “And if we add testimony from Beverly and Captain Picard, to emphasise how traumatic their and your experiences were…”  
“Yes.” Beverly agreed quickly. She gave Katya a kind, sympathetic look. “I’m more than willing to do that and I know Jean-Luc would be too.” She sighed and made a helpless gesture with her hands. “We, you and I, Katya, we suffered … but so did he. What they did to him…”

Katya scowled angrily but then sighed and let it go. “Yeah,” she conceded quietly. “I know about the rapes he suffered, the sexual assaults. And the other stuff. The weird stuff…”  
“The weird stuff?” Beverly asked, confused. “What weird stuff? What are you talking about?”  
Suddenly realising she’d spoken out of turn, Katya attempted to deflect. “Oh!” she smiled disarmingly. “Nothing.” she shrugged. “The whole deal was weird, wasn’t it?”  
Beverly moved until she was closer to Katya and caught her eyes. “Katya,” she said earnestly. “if you know something we don’t, please tells us. He’s struggling and I know it’s with something he can’t … or won’t … talk about.”  
Shifting uncomfortably, Katya hedged. “I’m not sure I should tell you. He did ask me specifically not to.”  
Deanna sat forward and gently took Katya’s hand. “It may be pivotal, if not for your case, then for his recovery. Please, Katya, tell us what he told you. Don’t let your feelings about him get in the way. He never meant to hurt you, or anyone else.”  
The anger and defiance that had flared in her eyes faded and she sighed. “I get it, you know.” she whispered. “I know he wasn’t in control … it’s just my memory keeps playing…” She sighed and her hands flopped on her lap. “Look, if I think of it objectively, I can accept he wasn’t at fault. So,” she gave a decisive nod. “Ok, I’ll tell you what he told me.”  
She gave Beverly an uncompromising look. “You know about the rape stuff? The sexual assaults?”

“Yes.”  
“So, I’m thinking you don’t know about the semen collection.”  
Beverly’s eyes narrowed. “No.”  
“Right.” Katya sighed. “Ok, so he told me that Twenth had orally raped him. He had administered some drugs that kept the captain erect and allowed for rapid production of fertile semen. Twenth performed oral sex on him multiple times and collected each ejaculate. Captain Picard had no idea why this happened, but he doubted it was for anything but a criminal motive.”  
Beverly was thinking fast. “So, he’s not only carrying the burden of self-imposed guilt, he’s also struggling with the knowledge that during a prolonged sexual assault, his biological fluid was stolen, most probably to be used in the committal of a crime.” She shook her head angrily. “And if we know anything about Twenth and Lannit Yan, you can bet they intended to use Jean-Luc’s semen to create offspring. A highly desirable commodity in some circles, I’m sure.”  
Katya frowned and rubbed her chin in thought. “Twenth’s dead, so if anyone has the semen, it’d be Lannit.”

“Yes. While Twenth was obviously intelligent, I think he supplied the brawn of the relationship. Lannit Yan was the brains.” Beverly’s eyes suddenly widened, and she snapped her fingers. “That ship! The one that Jean-Luc boarded against Will’s express wishes. It had a small item … Will asked me to use our medical scanners to identify it, but I couldn’t narrow it down. All I could say with any certainty was that it was human and not bone or soft tissue. I thought brain matter, or something like that, but I was wrong. It must’ve been his semen, collected in a small container.”  
“That was the broker’s ship.” Deanna added, then cast a warning glance at Beverly before then glancing surreptitiously at Tom. Beverly caught the reference and offered a slight nod. Katya too saw the byplay and frowned. “Tom?” she said quietly, “would you go and get me a cold juice, please?”  
Tom was no fool, he knew the three women wanted to talk privately. He wasn’t offended and offered a kind smile. “Of course.” He moved to the door and asked, “Orange, ok?”  
“Yes.” Katya smiled in return. “That’d be fine.” Once he’d gone, Katya turned her attention back to the others. “So, what’s going on?”  
Beverly and Deanna exchanged a silent look. It was Beverly who shrugged and offered quietly, “With all due respect, Katya, you’re not in Starfleet any more. We’re not at liberty to divulge…”  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Katya snapped. “Who am I going to tell?”

Beverly’s eyes blazed angrily, but she stayed calm. “There are things going on that we simply can’t talk about, Katya. You’re going to have to accept that.”  
A tense silence followed until Katya snorted. “All right, I get it. But how about I ask some questions and you say either yes or no?”  
The friends glanced at each other and Deanna shrugged. It was Beverly who responded. “Ok, but with reservations. If you don’t get a response, it’s because we can’t answer.”  
“Fair enough.” Katya nodded. “Ok, the broker Counsellor Troi mentioned. He was the same one who was dealing with Twenth and Lannit?”  
“Yes.”  
“Was he working with our abductors?”  
“We don’t know.”  
“Do you know who he was working for?”

Beverly said nothing, but Deanna said softly, “Yes.” That brought a hot look of admonishment from Beverly. There was a clear warning in her tone as she muttered, “Deanna…”  
The smaller woman held up her hand. “No, Beverly. Katya has a right to know.”  
When Beverly said nothing further, Deanna turned to Katya and said, “The broker is working, we believe, for a Tholian. Had he managed to secure the sale of you, Beverly, the captain, and the children, then the Tholian would’ve been the owner. Whatever happened after that would have been at his discretion.”  
That information caused Katya to frown. “So, what about the captain’s semen? Were Twenth and Lannit Yan obeying an order from the broker or were they carrying out a side venture of their own?”  
“Again, we don’t know.” Beverly said with exasperation. “But my gut feeling is that they would’ve been trying to get all that they could, while they could. Once we’d been sold, they’d have lost their one big asset. But by taking Jean-Luc’s semen, they had the potential to make more latinum. All they would need is breeding stock. The selling point of any offspring successfully produced would be who the father was.”  
“No wonder he was pissed.” Katya murmured. “He was kinda desolated when he told me about what Twenth had done to him, but I could tell he was really angry too.”  
“And it goes a long way to explain why he defied Will’s refusal to allow him to board the broker’s ship.” Beverly sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Will doesn’t know anything about this, does he?”  
Deanna shook her head. “No.”  
“So, he’d still be hurt by what Jean-Luc did?”  
“Undoubtedly.”  
“Shit.” Beverly muttered sadly.

Deanna placed a warm hand on Beverly’s forearm and sighed. “For now, let’s put all this to one side and concentrate on Katya’s problems. She then turned her attention to the younger woman. “Do you have any legal representation?”  
Katya was just about to reply when Tom came back in, carrying a frosty bottle of orange juice. “Sorry I took so long,” he grinned. “the replicator was way down the hall.”  
All three women gave him a knowing smile. A slightly embarrassed Tom lowered his head and blushed. It was Katya who rescued him. “I’ve just been asked if I have a lawyer. That sounds like something you’d’ve taken care of. Did you?”  
“I did.” Tom replied quietly. “I’m not sure how good she is, I mean the McCormacks will have heavy legal artillery…”  
Beverly quietly interrupted with, “Oh, I think we can add the weight of Starfleet, Tom. The JAG office takes a pretty dim view of former members being harassed or victimised over things that happened during their service. Especially when said things were not their fault.”

Beverly turned her focus to Katya. “You may have left Starfleet, Katya, but Starfleet hasn’t left you. If you wish it, the ‘fleet will provide a very potent legal team to represent you…” she smiled at Tom, “in conjunction with any civilian lawyers you may have.”  
Tom gaped, then whistled softly. “Holy shit.”  
Katya grinned riantly. “Holy shit, indeed.”  
The next hour was spent going over the medical aspects of the defence before Beverly and Deanna departed, leaving Katya with hope and Tom with simple gratitude.


	10. Chapter 10

The two-day wait passed without incident. Will, having grown up in Alaska, was used to the continuing cold. Indeed, he had experienced far colder temperatures, and for much longer periods. Yet he liked the Victorian high country. The smell of eucalypts, rising from the bush of the valleys, helped clear his head.  
On their last night in the cabin, both men were seated outside, rugged up against the growing chill as they watched the sun set.  
“The colours here are extraordinary.” Jean-Luc sighed. “The way the Australian bush turns deep blue in the distance…”  
“Yeah.” Will agreed quietly. “That gradient of colour…” he gestured to the west. “I’ve seen some beautiful sunsets here on Earth and elsewhere, but boy, this one’s a stunner.”  
They sat in companionable silence until the last of the light faded and disappeared. In the darkness Will heard his captain sigh. His mind’s eye furnished the image of the steam he knew had escaped on the older man’s breath. “It wouldn’t surprise me if we had help with this mission.” His CO said quietly.

Suddenly alert, Will resisted the urge to sit up straight. “Really?” he offered noncommittedly. He was surprised to hear his captain chuckle.  
“Oh, come on, Number One.” he chided gently. “I’ve been on this ride once or twice before. You don’t serve as long as I have and not learn a thing or two.” When Will didn’t respond, Jean-Luc nodded in the darkness as he said quietly, “I understand, Will, and I commend your protection of your source. But may I offer a little advice?”  
Will’s reply was a little guarded. “Of course, sir.”

“If push comes to shove, step back and let whatever’s happening, happen. Don’t be swayed by emotions or loyalty. This,” he gestured in the dark, “is bigger than you and me, and if a price has to be paid for success, I’m willing to pay it.”  
Will wanted to remonstrate with his captain, to tell him he was wrong, but he knew what had been said was true. His CO was letting him know that he understood, that in all likelihood, he wouldn’t be returning from the mission and that he was resigned to it.   
It was testament to the kind of man he was that Jean-Luc was seeking to ameliorate Will’s feelings, to let him know that no blame would be laid at Will’s feet should the mission cause Jean-Luc’s death. The only thing that perturbed the older man was that his death might well be in vain. The thing that mattered was a successful outcome for the mission. If that occurred, then Jean-Luc felt his death would have some purpose. If he died and the mission failed it wouldn’t matter to him, but it would be that much harder for those left behind to accept.

That thought made Jean-Luc’s mind shift to his family. His beloved wife Beverly and their two beautiful children. “Oh,” he mused silently. “please let me come back, not in a coffin, but alive and able to embrace you all.”  
Will seemed to sense his captain’s mood and refrained from intruding. The two men sat in silence well into the night until, driven inside by the crisp coldness of the cloudless night, retreated to the warmth of the fire inside and eventually their beds.  
They rose with the sun and packed their few belongings. Outside the world was cloaked in the white of a heavy frost. With their breaths clouding around their heads and their feet crunching on the sparse covering of icy grass, the hover car was loaded. Both men gave the cabin and its surrounds one last look before getting in the vehicle and powering it up  
The journey wasn’t too long. Travelling at an altitude of 30 meters above the highest trees, the little craft easily cruised at 250 kph. They reached their destination in 2 hours.   
The outskirts of Melbourne sprawled, encroaching into the rural areas. Centuries earlier, urban planners had halted the sprawl. Like many large cities, Melbourne had learned from the mistakes of the past. Housing was planned much differently now, and the population treasured the open spaces they had preserved.  
Will guided the hover car into a nondescript parking space and waited while the tether was automatically connected. He then powered down the vehicle and nodded as he felt the gentle bump as the craft settled on the ground.   
He turned to his captain, his expression business-like. “Ok, sir. Now what?”  
“See that café on the other side of the median strip?”

Will nodded.  
“We’re going to have a coffee.”  
Will frowned as he watched Jean-Luc exit the craft. The man stretched and looked around, seemingly pleased with the clear blue skies. It was still chilly, but there was a promise of spring warmth to come.  
The big acting captain followed his CO across the divided road and mirrored his actions as Jean-Luc chose a seat in the sun. Soon a waiter appeared, and Jean-Luc ordered for both of them.   
Will’s eyebrows rose as the coffee order was very specific. “I didn’t know you were a coffee aficionado, sir.” he remarked quietly.  
“I’m not.” Jean-Luc replied cryptically.

He wanted to ask more but sensed he wouldn’t get any more information. This was proven correct as Jean-Luc tapped the side of his nose. “I have to protect my sources too.”  
Will’s knowing grin lifted Jean-Luc’s spirits. The coffees arrived and, along with some biscotti, was a small isolinear chip. The men took their time, making a show of enjoying their pick-me-up. Jean-Luc had palmed the chip and slipped it into his jacket pocket. By the time they’d finished their drinks the sun was indeed growing in warmth. Jean-Luc rose from his seat and took his jacket off before slinging it casually over his shoulder. He watched as Will rose and the two men sauntered back to the hover car.  
It wasn’t until they were airborne again that Jean-Luc fitted the chip into the onboard computer. He smiled grimly as he muttered, “We have a rendezvous to make.”  
Deliberately keeping his eyes on his instrument display and in doing so honouring Jean-Luc’s privacy, Will remarked, “More intrigue, or a definite destination?”  
“Oh,” Jean-Luc smiled knowingly. “A destination, I think.” He altered his tone a little and said, “Computer, new terminus. Time Ball Tower, Williamstown.”  
“Acknowledged. ETA, 12 minutes.”  
Will raised his eyebrows. “Local?”

“Yes.” Was all Jean-Luc said. On arriving at the historically significant place, Will circled slowly, taking a good look at the waters of Port Philip Bay before setting the craft down in the public car park.  
As they exited, Jean-Luc gave the tower an appreciative look. On seeing Will’s interest, the older man explained. “It was used in the 1800s to set the incoming sailing ship’s chronometers. The level of the ball above the tower gave the captains information of the time difference. Many of them had voyaged from the northern hemisphere. It took months.”  
Shaking his head in wonder, Will let out a long breath. “Good grief, a journey like that could be done in half an hour now, even in a modestly powered shuttlecraft, and virtually instantly if a transporter was used.”  
“Indeed.” 

“So,” Will said quietly, not looking at his captain. “now what?”  
Jean-Luc smiled enigmatically and turned to wander among the other parked ground vehicles and hover cars. Will could see the man was looking for something, but he said nothing, content to give his CO whatever time he required. His patience was rewarded when Jean-Luc stopped beside a nondescript hover car and gently patted its side. “I believe,” he murmured, “if you’d care to run your fingers under the port door seal, you’ll find the access chip.”  
Will did what had been suggested and smiled as he found, and then removed a small, slender chip. He slotted it into the reader and nodded as the door sighed open. He reached in and activated the starboard door. Both men entered and Will gave his captain an inquisitive look. The man smiled and leaned forward to slot the chip he’d received at the café into a reader.   
The little craft quickly powered up and lifted off. They travelled for 4 hours, covering 1000 kilometres, before landing again. On exiting, the men looked around at a vastly different landscape.   
Arid, gently undulating terrain covered with spinifex and gibbers stretched off into the distance in all directions. Jean-Luc and Will had been aware of the changing landscape as they left the urban areas, crossed fertile farmland and ranges, and slowly entered a dryer, harsher land. But getting out of the hover car and seeing it and feeling the heat in the slightly gritty air as they stood on the ground helped to impart just how vast and lonely the vista was. 

Will didn’t have to ask. Jean-Luc inclined his head and answered the tacit question. “We wait.”  
Ten minutes later, it was Will who tilted his head as he turned to face the sound he heard. Within scant moments a craft appeared. This was no hover craft, but a small space worthy vehicle. The men didn’t hesitate once it landed near them. They entered the new vehicle and looked back as it lifted off to see the hover craft rise and then travel quickly away.  
Once in the darkness of space, but only just out of Earth’s atmosphere, the craft banked sharply before ascending rapidly. It was Jean-Luc who spotted the orbiting ship.   
“That’s her.” he muttered quietly.  
Will was pleased with what he saw. The ship was modestly sized, but her lines were pleasing. The vessel gave the impression of understated power. Unfussy and professional-looking, the word that came to Will’s mind to describe the ship was stalwart.  
Their transport took up a position 100 meters from the ship and came to a halt. Jean-Luc seemed to be waiting for something and, before Will could comment, the men were beamed aboard.   
Though the captain had seemed unruffled by the recent events, he was clearly shocked to find a being manning the bridge of the larger ship. Will, playing his cards close to his chest, stepped forward and lifted his chin. “Will Riker.” he said as he extended his right hand.

The being refrained from shaking Will’s hand, instead offering a slight bow. “Haf.” It said by way of introduction. “You may call me that, or simply, pilot. I am here to facilitate your needs.” It then directed itself to Jean-Luc. “Your friend sends their regards, and wishes you success in your endeavours, Captain Picard.”  
Having quickly recovered from his alarm, Jean-Luc inclined his head. “Thank you, Haf. Please send my regards … and my gratitude, to my friend.”  
The humans saw the expression change on the alien and hoped it was a smile, but it was difficult to tell. The being was short, barely reaching Jean-Luc’s shoulder and its face had a blandness about it. There were two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, but it was as if there were too few muscles under the surface of the being’s pale ochre skin. Its lips barely parted as it spoke, so teeth weren’t evident. Jean-Luc decided he would ask his friend about the alien’s origins. If he survived.  
As Haf ushered the new arrivals to their seats, it said quietly, “The coordinates have been imputed, Commander Riker. ETA is 18 hours.”  
“Eighteen hours?” Will asked, pulling down the corners of his mouth. “Close then?”  
The alien smiled enigmatically. “If this was an ordinary vessel.”  
Jean-Luc smiled and inclined his head as he asked, “It’s not?”

“No, Captain, it is most certainly not.” The pilot’s eyes shone. “I will tell you about this ship, but I must insist on your … assured discretion.”  
Jean-Luc glanced at Will and received a nod. “You have it.” he said firmly, but quietly.  
Haf offered a small bow in acceptance. It then became quite animated. “You have heard of slip drive?”  
Jean-Luc nodded, but his tone carried his wariness. “I have, but only by way of unsubstantiated rumour.”  
Will’s eyebrows rose in surprise. It was news to him. Obviously, his CO’s grapevine was better connected than his.  
Haf offered a shrug. “Yes, that is consistent with the general opinion.” It then smiled, although the watching men were still not sure that was the exact intended expression. “However,” it continued, “slip drive is a reality and this vessel possess it.”  
It seemed to sigh. “In 18 hours, we will be much, much further away than a conventical warp capable ship could hope to be, even at maximum warp.”  
Will frowned as he said, “And where will that be, exactly?”  
Haf’s expression may have been enigmatic, but it was hard to tell. “It would be best if that information waswere withheld, Commander. The less you know…”  
Will held up his hand. “Ok.” He said resignedly. “Enough said.”

Things had changed. Rurke’s plan to wait at the planet Lannit Yan had stashed the breeders and ambush him when he came for them, was stymied when he was contacted unexpectedly by an Orion representative. He had been summoned to N’arrig.   
As Rurke positioned his ship in its new orbit he gave a respectful bow to the Orion on his viewscreen. “It is indeed very generous of you.” He said to the tall green male. “I understand your stance on off-worlders, and I appreciate the honour you’ve bestowed in allowing me to enter your space.” 

Even though he’d been summoned, Rurke obeyed the strictly observed courtesy of requesting permission.  
The Orion shrugged and permitted his cold expression to soften a little. “I know of you, Rurke and I know what you do. N’arrig is a backwater to us, but it is ours and you’re right, we don’t like trespassers.” He smiled lopsidedly. “And the fact you took the time to ask…” he shrugged again, “speaks volumes about your integrity.”  
He sat up straighter and adopted a more professional mien. “We know Lannit Yan is on N’arrig, and we know in general terms where he is but as yet we haven’t been able to locate him. As much as we would like to apprehend him … and to then demonstrate just how displeased he’s made us by being on the planet without permission, our resources are better spent in pursuing other endeavours.  
“So, Rurke, if you can remove this chancre from our world, we would be quite happy.”  
Rurke replied with a grim smile. “I hope to do just that. My information suggests he’ll leave soon, at which time I’ll take him. If you could withdraw your personnel, in such a way as to convince Lannit you had decided to search elsewhere, then I feel he’ll make his break all the sooner.” 

“Consider it done. We’d been considering doing that anyway, as a way to draw him out, but time was a factor. Our personnel are required elsewhere.”  
Rurke smiled and made a hand gesture of acceptance. “Then we both gain from the plan. Thank you again for your assistance.”  
The screen went blank and Rurke smiled. “Oh, Lannit, the net draws ever tighter. Will you take the bait?”

It took Lannit two and a half hours before he was certain the blasts were becoming less frequent and further away. He moved to a different excavation within the tunnels and listened carefully as his eyes watched a passive scanner. He was right. The searching Orions were moving away to concentrate on a different area of the mines.   
He would wait ten more hours and, if this trend continued, he’d move closer to the surface. Once he was certain it was safe to do so, he’d then transport up to his ship. He grinned wolfishly, feeling triumph surging through his body.   
“Stupid, plodding Orions!” he crowed. “You were always doomed to fail. I am Lannit Yan, you never had a hope of outwitting me.”  
The ten hours passed with agonising slowness. Lannit was chafing, impatient to get out of his underground refuge. When he finally moved up the tunnels until he was only a few metres under the surface, it was all he could do to resist the urge to get out and embrace the sky above. He knew it was night, and with no moon he knew he would be all but invisible, but caution prevailed, and he somehow restrained himself.  
Three hours later he was back aboard his ship and ordering its departure from the system at maximum warp. The vessel began to move, but then suddenly shuddered to a halt. Lannit stared uncomprehendingly at his monitors as he tried to understand what had happened. His eyes tracked the text scrolling across the screen, but his mind struggled to accept it.

Hello, Lannit Yan. the text said. I have your ship held within my tractor beam. You cannot break it. Prepare for my arrival. Rurke.  
Lannit’s jaw sagged before he suddenly screamed, “Noooooo!”  
On his ship, Rurke smiled coldly. “I’ll wait for a bit, Lannit. Let you marinate in the toxic slurry of your growing fear and dread.” he sighed and nodded. “And when I feel you’re ripe, I’ll pick you.”

For the third time in as many minutes, Katya grunted angrily and rolled her eyes. Tom, having risen from his chair to stand by her side, placed a warning hand on her shoulder and emphasised it by giving a gentle squeeze.  
Katya let out a short breath and offered a silent nod of acknowledgement. The other occupants of the room, two lawyers from a modestly large legal firm, watched patiently, one of the two having paused in her speech as their client regained her equilibrium.  
“I apologise,” Katya murmured, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just that I feel like one of those old-fashioned weathervanes, shifting constantly, you know, moving in someone else’s wind.”  
The female lawyer smiled professionally. “It’s perfectly understandable, Ms. Kurnov. Situations like the one you find yourself in are stressful.”  
“And that’s why we’re here, Ms. Kurnov.” The male added sympathetically. “It’s our job to ease that stress. To make a difficult and stressful situation not only bearable, but hopefully no longer cause for worry.”  
“Can you do that?” Tom asked quietly.

The professional smile returned to the woman’s face. “Oh, I certainly think so.” She seemed to debate with herself for a few seconds before deciding to voice her thoughts. “I received confirmation from Starfleet’s Judge Advocate General’s office that they’re willing to assist with a team.” By her tone it was clear that the woman, though impressed by both the offer and the legal clout that came with it, was still somewhat peeved at the thought that she and her partner needed it. But the truth was they did. Going up against the McCormack’s legal might was always going to be a struggle.  
Even with the JAG team’s help, it was still going to be difficult.  
Katya snorted, but this time wryly and without rancour. “Wow, a Starfleet JAG team? Who’da thought? Not so long ago I hated them with a passion. Now I’m grateful for their help.”  
Her comment caught the attention of both lawyers. “You hated the JAG?”

“Oh, you bet I did!” Katya exclaimed. “They refused to support the charges against Picard. Dropped the investigation and left me hung out to dry.”  
The lawyers glanced worriedly at each other. Before any questions could be asked, Katya took a deep breath and recounted, as dispassionately as she could, what had happened. When she finished there was a momentary silence before the female lawyer said quietly, “We’re so sorry, Ms. Kurnov. We were aware you’d been sexually assaulted, and we knew Captain Picard’s name had been mentioned in Sally McCormack’s deliberate provocation of you, but what you’ve just told us … that’s shocking.”  
“Yeah.” Katya sighed. “That’s one word for it.”  
“Does this change anything?” Tom asked, a note of hope in his voice.  
The male lawyer nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” He then snapped his fingers. “And the JAG office will be able to furnish everything we need. Medical reports, psychological evaluations…”  
Katya shot to her feet; her fists clenched tightly by her sides. “You can’t have any of it! It’s private!”  
Both lawyers, shocked, said in unison, “What?”

Tom stepped in front of Katya, facing her, and blocking the lawyers’ view. “Katya,” he said gently, “calm yourself. Take some deep breaths, then sit down.”  
Normally being told to calm down would’ve provoked a very heated reaction from Katya. But she had been medicated, and Tom’s words filtered through her flash of anger. She did as he suggested and retook her seat. It was Tom who offered her explanations to the lawyers.  
“What happened was deeply traumatic for her,” Tom’s expression was compassionate. “and deeply personal. Because of this, she refused psychological treatment and only the barest minimum of medical interventions. As a result, there would be little in the way of official medical or psychological records of aftermath of the events from her perspective.” Tom glanced at Katya before he continued. He was worried about her. Hearing this all over again must’ve been painful for her.   
“The acting captain of the Enterprise, the other victim, Doctor Beverly Picard, Picard himself and Ms. Kurnov all gave statements to the JAG team. It was based on Ms. Kurnov’s and Doctor Picard’s statements that charges of aggravated sexual assault and deliberate endangerment were laid against Captain Picard. The resulting investigation found no case to answer. The charges were dropped.”  
Tom sighed and gestured helplessly. “And that, of course, only added to Ms. Kurnov’s considerable trauma and anguish.” 

“I see.” the woman said cautiously. She waited a beat and then asked Katya quietly, “And now? How would you feel about counselling now?”  
Katya’s smile was tired. “I’ve already consented. Counsellor Deanna Troi, the Enterprise’s chief of department has been to see me and offered. I accepted, though somewhat reluctantly.”  
“And Dr. Picard, who’s the Enterprise’s CMO, has also offered any help we may need. I think she’s going to liaise with the doctors here.” Tom added.  
“Right.” The male lawyer said briskly. “Then we have a lot of vidcalls to make.” The lawyers rose and this time, when they smiled, it was with genuine warmth. “What you’ve told us has strengthened your position significantly. We’ll return either tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime, rest and recover.”  
In the quiet after their exit, Tom said tentatively, “I think that went well?”  
Katya snorted, but offered a kind smile. “Yeah. Like a kick in the head.”

Beverly was hurrying as she made her way back to her lodgings. She knew Deanna and her children were waiting for her and her eagerness to get back, as well as her impatience to reveal what she had heard, was such that she almost broke into a run. Fortunately, she was able to curb the urge, realising that it wouldn’t be wise to draw any unwanted attention.  
She deliberately slowed her pace and made sure her expression was bland as she made her way through the thinning crowds of shoppers in the retail district. The two friends had secured a lovely flat in a small group of units by the shores of a lake. There was a public park with a children’s play area and a transporter station nearby which made their journeys to and from Starfleet’s San Francisco headquarters both easy and somewhat anonymous.  
The ID reader chirped quietly, and the foyer door opened silently as Beverly entered the housing complex. A lift took her to the second floor and moments later the same ID chip gave her access to the flat.  
Before the doctor had activated the touch command to close the door, James launched himself from the floor and ran to his mother, hugging her legs tightly until she hoisted him and planted a wet kiss on his neck.   
He was still giggling when she lowered him. Deanna, having placed Elly on her soft rug on the floor, had had risen from her seat and approached, saying tightly, “What did you find out?”  
Beverly took a moment to take a deep breath and swallow to wet her dry mouth.

“They’re on a ship that has a new kind of propulsion system. With it they can travel much, much faster than any conventional warp capable vessel and therefore go significantly further.”  
Deanna’s brows lowered. “Ok, so, where are they?”  
“I’ve no idea.” Beverly shrugged and she stalked over to the windows. Normally such a lovely lakeside view would have had a calming effect, but not today. James watched his mother, a slight frown marring his features.  
“The person I spoke to either wouldn’t or couldn’t elaborate about the ship and had no clue as to why Jean-Luc and Will had been seconded.”  
“You kept your enquiries generic?”  
The question made Beverly’s eyes flash angrily. “Of course, I did.” she replied waspishly. She then waved away her anger and shook her head by way of an apology. “The person I spoke to is a decades-long friend. I’d no more compromise them than they would compromise me.”

“Fair enough.” Deanna replied as she retook her seat. Beverly sat opposite and a worried silence ensued before Beverly sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. “I got the impression that the new ship isn’t exactly top secret.”  
“What make you think that?”  
“Well, for one thing some of the things I was told … it seemed to me that my friend may have been under the impression that I already knew some or all of it.”  
Deanna’s eyebrows rose. “How interesting.” She thought for a moment and offered, “Perhaps an assumption was made because of your connection to the captain?”  
“Could well be. But if that’s the case and Jean-Luc was already aware of the ship, then doesn’t that mean its existence isn’t a closely guarded secret? It seems to me that if my friend knew about it and was confident enough to tell me what they did…”  
“You’re probably right.” Deanna sighed. “It doesn’t get us any closer to finding out where Will and the captain are, though.”  
“Maman?” James interrupted softly. “When’s papa coming here?” Beverly turned to her son and smiled. “I’m not exactly sure, James. He’s on a mission with uncle Will, but I’m sure he’ll join us just as soon as he can.”  
The boy considered that briefly before asking, “Does he know that we’re not on the Enterprise?”  
“Oh, yes.” Beverly smiled. “I’m sure he does.”

That seemed to placate James and he returned to his play.  
Beverly then took up her conversation with Deanna, again. “What you said is true, Dee, it doesn’t get us any closer to finding out where they are. And now we know they’re travelling on a ship that can go at unimaginable speeds, we can’t even make a guess.”  
“That’s not exactly true.” Deanna’s obsidian-coloured eyes shone as a thought stirred. “We know that a Tholian is involved and we also know that the captain is willing to be used as bait to try and capture him.”  
Beverly caught Deanna’s drift. “And now we know that Jean-Luc has a very personal reason for getting hold of Lannit Yan, and an even more compelling motive to see him brought to justice.”  
“Yes.” Deanna nodded. “Now from what I know of the Tholians and the Hegemony, I think it’s highly unlikely any of them would venture too far from their sector of space. Even given their power, to encroach into Federation space and out of their sphere of influence would be a very provocative move.”  
“Yeah, one that Starfleet couldn’t just ignore or let go unchallenged.”  
“Right. So, I think the Tholian, the broker and maybe even Lannit Yan, may be lurking in the same general area, one either within the Hegemony’s claimed space or close to it.”  
“Ok, that makes sense,” Beverly said as she rose and ordered the inhouse computer system to display a star map on the entertainment screen of the area in question. She scowled and uttered a particularly vulgar Klingon curse as the calm computer voice informed her that such a request was not part of its programming.

Deanna giggled quietly and quipped, “Worf has a lot to answer for.”  
Beverly managed a rueful smile and nodded. “I have to admit, it somehow feels more satisfying when you swear in Klingon, not to mention certain people…” she cast a glance at her children, “don’t understand Klingon. Yet.” She then laughed as she remembered. “Worf was so embarrassed when I asked him to teach me.”  
“Oh, I know. And I didn’t know Klingons could blush.”  
Both women shared a warm laugh before Beverly sobered. “If we’re going to have any hope of accessing the star maps of that area of space, we’re going to have to go back to Command.”  
“Unfortunately, you’re right.” Deanna sighed, agreeing reluctantly. “Although I don’t think that simply viewing the charts would raise too many eyebrows, the fact that it’s us requesting them may cause unwanted attention, though.” She gave Beverly a frank look. “I’ve no doubt we’re under surveillance. Given the circumstances, leaving the Enterprise when we did was always going to provoke questions about our motives.”  
“Agreed. I was thinking about that as I was making my way back here.”

Deanna stood and squared her shoulders. “Well, we’re Starfleet officers and it’s not illegal for us to access star maps.”  
“True enough.” Beverly said firmly, and then gestured to the children. “They’ll have to come.” She then stood and gathered what was required to take the children. Deanna offered to take one of the two bags of essentials. With Elly in a carry pouch securely fastened to Beverly, the doctor grinned at her best friend, holding James’s hand. “Shall we?” she asked.  
Deanna smiled grimly. “Let’s shall.”

The Tholian stared implacably, his hooded eyes giving nothing away. Rurke was used to this and gave no outward sign of being intimidated. As always, he was calm and respectful. A long silence came to an end when the employer sighed and seemed to discard his brooding mien. After sighing deeply, he shook his head. “I would very much like to be with you when you bring Lannit Yan aboard your ship, Rurke.”  
Rurke said nothing, but his thin eyebrows rose in question. The Tholian gave an irritated wave of his hand in dismissal. “Unfortunately, I cannot. My presence is required elsewhere, and I don’t want to delay your work. Secure Lannit, get the information I require, then you are free to do with him what you wish. Just be sure he is dead, and his remains eliminated before you leave whatever system you’re in when you’ve finished with him.”   
The broker thought the communique had come to and end, but his employer suddenly lifted his head and added coldly, “And bring back my ship, preferably with my stock on board.”  
“Yes, sir.”   
The screen went blank and a thoughtful Rurke wandered to his command chair to sit. As he stared at Lannit’s ship, his mind turned over what his employer had said. “This may prove to be very providential.” He mused. “I may live a little longer, after all.”

It was while they were on their way to Starfleet headquarters that Beverly’s private comm vibrated gently. She hooked it out of her pocket as the small group entered the transporter hub. Reading from it as Deanna gave their destination, she didn’t say anything about it until they rematerialised moments later in San Francisco.   
“Katya’s doctor’s wanting to meet with us.”  
“Us?” Deanna’s tone carried her surprise.  
Beverly offered a small grimace. “Well, to be precise, me, but we both know they’re going to want to talk to you too, eventually, so it’s a matter of killing two birds with one stone.”  
“Nice way to put it.” Deanna remarked dryly. Beverly offered an apologetic smile.  
“You want to meet with her doctor privately?”  
“No.” Deanna said as she sighed. “I wouldn’t have much to tell them that they don’t already know.”  
“So, a united front then?”

Her tone decisive, Deanna said, “Yes. I’ve seen and heard enough about Katya’s case to know post-traumatic stress when I see it.” She gave her best friend a long look. “And Katya’s not the only one to come away from the recent events suffering PTSD.”  
Beverly began to walk towards Command, forcing Deanna and James to hurry to catch up. Once she was walking beside the doctor, she heard Beverly mutter, “One patient at a time, Deanna.”  
The group had no trouble entering Starfleet Command, nor did they encounter any impediment in gaining access to the vast library of star charts Starfleet possessed. But when Beverly made the vocal request to view the system they had in mind, the computer they’d employed for the task balked and both displayed and verbalised a warning. “That information has been classified for level 5 and above. Your credentials do not provide access. Insufficient clearance.”   
“Shit.” Beverly muttered darkly, making James softly snort. Deanna was about to suggest trying something else when the friends suddenly found themselves in the company of three security team members.  
“Doctor Picard,” the lieutenant commander in charge said quietly, “Counsellor Troi, please come with us.”  
Beverly opened her mouth to protest, but one look at the stiff expression on the man’s face silenced her. The officer glanced at the children and said, “Your offspring can go to the creche. This officer…” he gestured to a female ensign waiting nearby, “will take them.” 

Beverly knew the creche at Command was excellent, having used it often when her older son, Wesley was young. She nodded and watched as her children were carried and led away. The women were then escorted out of the library and through the building, eventually entering a section neither woman had been in before.  
Having been left to wait in a non-descript room for ten minutes, it was Beverly who rose from her chair when a commander entered. She’d had time to become angry and she was loaded and ready to fire a verbal lashing. She never got the chance. The commander held up a hand and said firmly, “If you want your husband to survive, you’ll keep quiet while I speak.”  
Beverly’s mouth snapped shut with an almost audible sound. Her glare wavered, returned momentarily before fading as the doctor accepted the advice. Deanna stood and gently coaxed her friend back to her seat. The commander did the same.  
Once everyone was seated, the woman seemed to gather her thoughts before saying mildly, “That must’ve sounded very melodramatic, Doctor Picard, and I apologise for my abruptness.” A smile made a fleeting appearance and then vanished. “Nevertheless, what I said is true. We feel there is a good chance your husband, Captain Picard…” she turned her attention to Deanna and added, “and your partner, Counsellor, Acting Captain Riker, have a chance to succeed in their mission. Admittedly it’s a slim chance, and one dependent on somewhat disconnected events taking place, but if they do, then yes, they may very well survive.”

The listening women absorbed that, and it was Beverly who asked, “We? To whom do you refer?”  
The commander lifted a finger and wagged it. “No, I can’t divulge details. Just be assured that there are people who have a vested interest in seeing this mission succeed. And if that means the brave and dedicated members who’ve undertaken it survive, all the better. That’s certainly our preferred scenario.”  
“But?” Deanna asked, already knowing the answer. The commander’s grim expression confirmed that.   
“The mission must succeed.”  
“At any cost?”  
That brought an uncomfortable shrug. “What would you have me say, Counsellor? Starfleet Command would mourn the loss of two superlative officers, but if their sacrifice stopped a calamity of truly epic proportions from occurring, then wouldn’t their deaths serve a higher purpose?”  
“Empty words for the loved ones left behind.” Beverly muttered bitterly.

“True.” The commander conceded with equanimity.  
A short silence ensued before the woman sighed. “As I’ve already told you, I can’t give you any details. However, I can tell you that the resources that’ve been made available to assist are … significant. Starfleet Command and the Federation Council want and need this mission to succeed. But we can’t be seen to be helping. Far too much is at stake.”   
The commander smiled and this time it lingered a little longer. “All I can do for now is ask you to trust me. And to leave this to us.”  
There was a sneer in Beverly’s voice as she said, “In other words, go away and keep your noses out of your business.”  
“Yes.” The reply had been both crisp and cold. Beverly didn’t want to accept defeat and was warming to the idea of a heated exchange when Deanna’s hand gripped her forearm. “Let it go, Beverly.” she said quietly. “Leave it alone for now.”  
Beverly’s eyes flashed with anger and she turned her attention to her friend. Yet Deanna’s implacable gaze robbed her of her will to fight. “Ok.” she murmured defeatedly. 

The commander escorted them back to the main atrium and, as she turned to leave them, Beverly caught her hand. “Can you at least give us some kind of … I don’t know … updates?”  
The short explosion of breath that escaped the commander carried her exasperation, and yet it was obvious she wanted to help. Eventually she made a gesture of irritation with her hand. “I’ll do what I can.” She then added quietly and firmly, “but no promises!.”   
She walked away without another word. James and Elly were quickly returned, and the small group left.

Over the hours since Rurke’s gloating words had shattered his euphoria, Lannit’s pacing had been sporadic, interspersed with periods of dejected self-pity, where he sat almost motionless in his command chair and contemplated his approaching and doubtlessly painful demise. But since his sudden flash of inspiration he was pacing again, his mind frantically putting the details of his plan together.  
“It might work.” He sounded doubtful even to his own ears and it made him grimace. “It has to work.” he said cried plaintively. “If it doesn’t, he’ll … he’ll …” Lannit covered his face with his hands as his feet stopped their movement.   
He possessed a rich and fertile imagination; it was that, plus his willingness to enact his imaginings that had made him such a perverted and deadly predator. The trouble was he knew Rurke was just as talented at creating torture scenarios. Where Lannit was motivated by lust, driven by his insatiable need to express and satiate his sexual desires, Rurke sought to mete out some kind of justice, especially if he’d been given permission to please himself on how his employer’s orders were carried out.  
Lannit hated the broker, even more for possessing some kind of moral code. It seemed to somehow demean Lannit, as if even someone as ruthless and brutal as Rurke held a higher standard. It was yet another reason why Lannit would enjoy killing Rurke. Slowly and painfully, of course.

And that brought Lannit’s mind back to his fledgling plan. “So much depends on my ability to lure him into a position where I have the upper hand … or at least the opportunity to gain it. But if I do, and should I fail in the attempt to take it, he’ll…”   
Once again, the ghastly mental imagery of his own torture cascaded through Lannit’s mind. His stomach soured to the point where he heaved. Somewhere in the dark, deep recesses of his mind it occurred to Lannit that what he was experiencing … this terror and dread, was what his victims must’ve felt. The thought, fleeting and wisp-like, vanished almost as soon as it had risen.  
He straightened and did what he could to assemble his wits. “I have to get a hold of myself, I have to focus!” he admonished harshly. “If I’ve any hope of getting away, I have to keep control.”  
As if to emphasise his newly found determination, he made an obscene gesture at Rurke’s still unseen ship and then snarled. “And what better to calm myself than to masturbate as I imagine I’m fucking you, Rurke! Right up your tight, puckered arse.”  
Lannit dropped his trousers and grabbed his already hard cock. He lowered himself into his command chair and closed his eyes as he stroked himself. From his mouth came a torrent of vile, vitriolic hate, as he described aloud what he was imagining.  
Not far away, out in the cold, black void of space, Rurke listened emotionlessly, though keeping a mental tally of the threats and acts his captive was spewing. “Oh Lannit Yan. You are going to regret this.” He sighed, wondering idly if Lannit was aware he was being overheard. 

“Possibly.” Rurke decided. “This might be his way of deliberately goading me, or at least showing his defiance.” He sighed again. “It matters not. You’re doomed, Lannit Yan.”  
The broker’s back suddenly arched as an almost painful tingling sensation slithered the length of his spine. “Ah!” he exclaimed softly. His nostrils flared as if he was trying to locate prey. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the surrounding space. “You’re close.” he muttered. “When will you show yourself?”  
On the invisible shadow vessel, two beings looked at each other. One, who outranked the other, offered a shrug, reacting to Rurke’s question. “When we’re ready.” It answered Rurke’s question. The voice sounded odd, having been altered by an electronic device. The lower ranked being commented dryly, “When we’re told, more likely.”  
The altered voice still carried the hint of sarcasm. It only took a cold stare, not diminished by the face plate that was part of an integrated and sealed suit, to make the subordinate being bob its head in apology and acceptance of the mild, unspoken rebuke.  
The superior spoke softly as it said, “The Tholian would’ve been given the news by now. The bait has been placed on the hook. Stay alert.”  
That determined, the two beings settled in to wait and refocused on their task.

Will was casting the occasional glance at his captain, once again noting the weight loss, the dark circles under his eyes and the pale, paper-like appearance of his skin. The younger man sighed but disguised it by rubbing his hands over his face. Jean-Luc wasn’t fooled for a second. He pursed his lips and, though he kept his gaze on the virtual display on the screen in front of him, said quietly, “I assure you I’m fine, Number One.”  
Will grimaced, somewhat embarrassed that he was so transparent. He hesitated momentarily, briefly weighing the consequences of airing his concerns. He decided he should confess what was troubling him.  
“Captain,” he began cautiously, “I don’t think it’s any secret that we’re facing a difficult situation.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “And, as you’re the bait that’s being used to set the mission in motion, it’s not unreasonable for me to be concerned about you.”

Jean-Luc allowed a beat before offering a slow nod. “That’s true, of course.” He then held up a finger to halt whatever Will was about to say. “Although I may not be at the top of the game physically, I can assure you that my mental faculties are unaffected.”  
In Will’s mind he crossed his fingers. What he was about to say held the potential to damage both their professional relationship and, sadly, their friendship. “But are they?” He tried to say it gently. “Look, Captain,” he continued, having started, he needed to carry on regardless. “it’s obvious you’re in a weakened physical state, but mentally? After what you’ve been through? It’d be understandable if…”  
The acting captain was taken aback when his CO suddenly stood. He glared down at Will and almost snarled as he said, “Are you trying to suggest that I’m a liability because I seek retribution for what was done to me and my family? To Katya Kurnov?”  
“No, sir, not at all … I…”

“Then what are you saying?” Jean-Luc spat angrily. “That I’ve become so determined to capture Lannit Yan that I’d compromise the mission to achieve personal satisfaction? … Revenge?”  
“No, Captain.” Will replied patiently. “But sir, you can’t discount how driven you are in this matter. And I get it, I really do. I just want both of us to be on the same page. I need to know you’re going to stick with whatever plan we come up with and that we’re both striving for the same outcome. Surely sir, that’s fair, given the circumstances?”  
Jean-Luc took a moment to rein in his anger. He eventually sighed and conceded Will’s point. “You’re right, Will. We’ve had this discussion before and I’m sorry that you feel you need to clarify your position again.” He closed his eyes briefly before continuing. “And you’re right to be worried about me. I am highly motivated to get Lannit Yan and I’m not in the best shape, either physically or mentally.”  
He held up one finger and Will was heartened to see the determination in his friend’s eyes. “However,” Jean-Luc said firmly, “I won’t compromise the mission. And, if you feel that I may be about to do that, despite my efforts not to, please feel free to take whatever actions you deem necessary to stop me.”

It was a sobering declaration and Will’s expression showed it. He offered a solemn nod and then brought the discussion to a close by gesturing to the display screen. “If our pilot’s information is correct, we should be arriving in about three hours.”  
Once again, all business, Jean-Luc gave a curt nod. “Yes,” he replied crisply. “and it looks like we’ll be within territory claimed by the Orions.”  
“Claimed.” Will snorted derisively. “That’s a very loose term, especially when it’s used by the Orions.”  
“Hmm, yes. Their interpretation of what’s rightfully theirs could stand some scrutiny.” Jean-Luc pursed his lips and then added, “It matters not, though. We’re not in a position to argue the point. We’re going to that area of space to apprehend two, possibly three, if we’re lucky, dangerous criminals. Hopefully, we’ll be in and out before the Orions get wind of us.”  
The big acting captain held up one hand, raised his eyebrows and intwined his first two digits. “Fingers crossed.”  
“Indeed. Fingers crossed.”  
The two men then began to solidify their plans.

The Tholian gave the information displayed on his monitor a long, incredulous look. “Picard is on his way?” Suddenly the being’s mind became cluttered with scenarios. “It almost sounds too good to be true.”   
He scrolled down the newly decrypted message and scowled as he read, “Contained?” he spat the word testily. “What does that mean? Contained.” He snorted and his hands clenched and then released without his awareness.  
“Contained.” he repeated, as if saying the word again would somehow reveal its true meaning. Normally he wouldn’t tolerate such an undefined message from one of his employees. That he was presently unable to clarify the communique, a rare occurrence to be sure, irritated him. But it also caused an unwanted and rare flush of anxiety.

He pushed back from the desk at which he sat and glanced around the dimly lit room. He was on his personal vessel, a sleek state of the art craft that could slide through space mostly undetected.   
He preferred low lighting. Not only did it project an ominous and tacitly threatening mien, but it also assisted with his faulty vision. Years ago, as a much younger person, he’d been involved in a battle that had resulted in a serious flash burn. He’d been unable to reach competent medical assistance and, by the time he could, it was made known to him that seeking help, so long after the initial injury, would be judged as casting aspersions upon the medical community.  
The Hegemony and the Typhon Pact were in their infancy and their image was closely guarded and defended. He was emerging as a promising military figure and he had an image to groom.

He sighed and tabbed off the message screen. He had a decision to make. Do what was necessary to clarify the communique … a time-consuming action … or leave it, as undefined as it was, to the employee’s discretion, and take advantage of the sudden and unexpected free time to travel and involve himself in Rurke’s situation. He gave brief thought to alerting the viridian about the likely arrival of Picard but dismissed the thought. “No, I’ll keep that to myself for now.”  
“It is tempting, though.” he sighed, weighing up the consequences. “But who should I give my confidence to? Rurke or the other employee?” He shrugged. The answer seemed simple. Rurke had been used for many, many years and had never disappointed. On the other hand, the other employee was relatively new. But though professionally researched and with glowing references, the individual was still an untested entity.   
“Contained.” The Tholian sighed as he shook his head again. The decision should’ve been an easy one. Leave Rurke to handle his situation and continue on the journey to ensure the other employee carried out their instructions.  
But it wasn’t easy, not at all. Especially now as it seemed an opportunity to take Picard had presented itself. Eventually the Tholian shook his head as he inputted the commands to change his vessel’s course. “Too tempting.” he muttered wryly. “I want to see Lannit Yan get what he so richly deserves. And I want Picard.”

The Tholian’s ship, slipping through space so seemingly invisibly, triggered a quiet alarm on the vessel that hung in space near Rurke’s ship.   
“It’s on its way.” The subordinate crewmember smiled to itself, noting smugly that yet another wager had proved profitable.  
“Acknowledged.” The reply was curt, increasing the junior officer’s amusement.  
“ETA three hours.” It informed, doing its best to keep the satisfaction from its voice.  
The superior-ranked officer hid the irritation that coloured its thoughts. This was not the time for petty distractions. Instructions were quietly given to move their ship, positioning it in a more advantageous aspect.   
If the impending scenario played out as anticipated, the Federation would achieve a significant result. Everything that could be done to ensure that was in place. Whether or not the players in the evolving drama acted their parts as anticipated was yet to be seen.

The children taking an afternoon nap, Deanna watched silently as Beverly rose from her chair and stalked across the room. This was the fourth time in the past hour that she’d done this, and the counsellor was wondering when the vocal tirade would begin. “After all,” she mused silently and with grim certainty, “one cannot deny one’s true nature.”  
As if on cue, Beverly suddenly halted and turned to face her friend. “This is driving me nuts!” she exclaimed. “Why the hell are we being made to sit on the sidelines, twiddling our damned thumbs?”  
Before Deanna could reply to the largely rhetorical question, Beverly waved her friend’s nascent words away. “We’ve got years of experience! We know the main players! We should be able to contribute…” She seemed to pause momentarily before adding in a softer voice, “…something.”

As Deanna still watched, Beverly’s head lowered, and her shoulders dropped. She turned to the window and took the three steps necessary to bring her close to the floor-to-ceiling glass panels. Though her gaze seemed to focus on the beautiful vista of the lake, she was seeing nothing. Her sight was turned inwards. In her mind she envisioned Jean-Luc and Will; trying to imagine what they were doing at that moment. It wasn’t until Deanna laid a gentle hand on her shoulder that Beverly dragged her thoughts back to her friend.  
She summoned a lopsided smile and patted Deanna’s hand in an almost maternal gesture. “It’s ok, Deanna.” the taller woman sighed. “I’m just venting.”  
“Really?” Deanna replied, a glint of dry humour in her eyes. “I never would’ve guessed.”   
Beverly offered a soft snort and both women went back to their seats. Deanna’s head tilted a little in thought before she remarked, “I expected it sooner … and to be honest, I expected a lot more.”  
Beverly’s slightly confused expression gave way to one of embarrassment. “Yes,” she replied quietly. “that would be more like me, wouldn’t it? A real show of fireworks.”

Deanna shrugged but offered, “Yes, and it gives me cause to ask why your reaction was both delayed and … well, so subdued.”  
It was Beverly’s turn to shrug. She shifted in her chair, making Deanna think she was going to rise to her feet again but that didn’t happen. Beverly seemed to catch the almost automatic action and stopped it. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and sadness crept over her face.  
“I’m tired, Deanna.” she almost whispered. “I’m so damned tired.”  
Deanna rose from her chair and went to her friend, kneeling before her and placing her hands on Beverly’s thighs. “It’s no wonder, Beverly,” she said with gentle sympathy. “so much has happened. This latest mess is just about the metaphorical straw that breaks the camel’s back.”  
Beverly’s soft snort of amusement became a soft sob. She leaned forward and Deanna held her, gently rubbing Beverly’s back as the almost broken woman wept.  
Half an hour later both women we asleep on the sofa when the chime of an incoming message woke them. Years of responding immediately to any signal while aboard the Enterprise had the friends getting to their feet before they even understood what had woken them.

Beverly was about to tap her communicator when she saw the blinking light on the in-house computer.  
As the doctor quickly seated herself at the desk, Deanna came to stand by her side. On activation, the image of the female officer they’d met at Command offered a wry smile. “I was about to terminate the call.”  
Beverly brushed the comment away, opting instead to say tightly, “This is a public system. Your communication is unsecured.”  
The commander didn’t roll her eyes, but she came close. “I am aware of that, Doctor Picard. I’ve contacted you to merely suggest we meet for coffee, in perhaps half an hour? The café at the end of the wharf, the one with the candy-striped awning?” She smiled and added, “Your children are welcome to accompany you.”  
“We’ll be there.” Beverly replied briskly, but the channel had already closed. While Beverly rose from the desk, Deanna kneaded the muscles of her back. She grimaced as she said, “Wow, once upon a time I could sleep anywhere and rise like a daisy. Not so much now.”

“Yeah.” Beverly huffed, wincing as her body complained too. “With all those damned exercises we do, you’d think we’d be more supple.”  
Deanna’s response was wry. “Don’t discount the stress you’ve been under”  
“We’ve been under.” Beverly corrected.  
Deanna’s kind smile showed her acceptance of the amendment, as she began to organise the carry bags for the children. “Agreed,” she said quietly, “however, your stress levels have to be way higher than mine. “And the fact you’ve been stressed for so long … well, I’m amazed you’ve handled it as well as you have.”  
“Moot point.” Beverly muttered bitterly. “Stress is stress.” Before Deanna could say anything further, Beverly rotated her head and set her expression. She surveyed their bags, then tilted her head to the bedroom.   
Together, the friends gathered the children and shushed James’s mumbled complaints at being woken. Elly took it in her stride. “Come on,” Beverly said to both Deanna and James, “we’ve got a meeting to get to.”

The commander appeared relaxed as she sat in the shade of the awning. It was a warm day, and her light green top and tan pants reflected her ease in civilian dress. Beverly held Elly closer in the pouch and her grip tightened on James’s hand as they approached the officer’s table, understanding that whatever this meeting was about, the fact it wasn’t being held in secret gave the adults the freedom to be themselves.  
As they took their seats at the small table, the commander made a small gesture, summoning a waitress. Coffees were ordered, along with some small, assorted pastries and treats for James and Elly.  
Once the beverages and sweets had been delivered to their table, Beverly, true to form, dispensed with any small talk, launching straight away into her opening salvo.  
“You have something to tell us, Commander?”

A look of irritation crossed the woman’s face, but she quashed it quickly to adopt a benign expression. Instead of replying to Beverly’s blunt question, she offered a small smile and a statement. “You have a lot of friends in Starfleet.”  
Momentarily wrong-footed, Beverly hesitated and in the small hiatus, Deanna smiled and inclined her head as she said, “We both have. How is that relevant to anything?”  
Again, the commander deflected by not answering. “I suppose it’s understandable, given how long you’ve both served.”  
Now growing predictably angry, Beverly shifted in her chair, making James, seated on his mother’s lap, squirm. Beverly paused and gave her son a hug, although she was still preparing mentally, and somewhat physically, to do battle.   
The female officer was no fool and had been in her position long enough to know when to dispense with verbal parrying. It was amusing, on occasion, to bait the lower ranks a little, but the two women facing her were of equal rank, and were well-seasoned officers, and were hardened and wise. Added to that the fact that both officers had the unenviable task of sitting back while their respective partners risked their lives in a secret mission … well, it was obvious that it would be cruel to carry on as she had.  
The commander straightened in her seat and held up a hand to halt Beverly’s escalating ire. “I apologise, Doctor Picard. Sometimes I forget what we do affects others.”   
Beverly subsided but was hardly mollified. However, she allowed the woman to continue. The officer smiled her appreciation. “I mentioned your friends, because I’ve recently had an interesting chat with an old acquaintance of yours, Doctor. They told me about your enquiries.” 

The officer smiled, but there was a glint in her eyes as she continued. “My initial reaction was alarm. I almost quarantined your friend. Based on the conversation I had with them, it was obvious that some things we thought were … guarded, were … well … not.”  
Deanna laid a hand on Beverly’s forearm to tacitly ask for silence. It was grudgingly granted.  
“You’re referring to the…” Deanna glanced around surreptitiously and lowered her voice. “ship, in question?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then I can only say that it appears its existence wasn’t as guarded as you thought.”  
“Indeed.” The commander’s smile was chilly. “And that revelation has caused some mid-range waves.” She waved away the comments her remark provoked. “Oh, I know, if it were that secret, we would’ve made sure there’d be no way anyone but us would know about it. What concerns us is how this new information impacts on the current, ah, activities.”

“I see.” said Beverly, tightly. “And are we now to assume that you’re suggesting our partners may have been compromised?”  
The commander shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”  
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” Beverly’s eyes had begun to blaze. Once again, Deanna laid her hand on her friend’s forearm, and turned her attention to the woman seated opposite. “Why are we here, Commander?” she asked quietly. “Do you have some information for us, or not?”  
The commander didn’t respond immediately. Her hesitation was brief, but obvious. She seemed to search for something and then, having found it, offered a shallow nod. “Things are progressing as we hoped. It is possible the matters may be resolved, one way or another, within the next 48 hours.”  
Beverly’s tone was bitter as she repeated, “One way or another.”

The woman’s expression was grim, and yet there was sympathy in her eyes. “Yes, Doctor. One way or another. You can take that any way you wish. Personally, I feel a successful end to the mission will involve not only achieving the objectives, but also having all friendly parties return safely. However, the mission’s objective is the priority. If a high price must be paid to achieve it, then so be it.”  
She rose and gave each woman a long look. “If I can update you again, I will, but please refrain from trying to source information from others.”  
After she’d gone, Beverly swore softly and with vehemence. Deanna summoned a waiter and asked for their untouched pastries and James’s treats to be put in a bag. She then encouraged Beverly to drink her coffee. In the time it took for that to happen, Beverly calmed, just as Deanna knew she would.  
They returned to their accommodation to continue waiting. And worrying.

The pilot smiled when it heard the Enterprise captain suggest a flight strategy to his younger colleague. It was much the same as Haf had already thought of and had inputted. Nevertheless, it said nothing as the two humans discussed and dissected their plan. Eventually Will gave a nod. “Sounds good, Captain.” He then turned to the pilot. “You’ve been following our discussion?”  
“Indeed, I have.” The mysterious being said mildly. “And I find your plans quite ingenious. So much so that I have consulted the ship’s AI and have received the agreement to input the necessary manoeuvres.”  
Will was both annoyed and relieved. And just a smidgen flattered. “Ok.” he replied. “So, when do we engage?”  
The being made a flourishing gesture with one hand and ended it by pressing a tab. “Now, as it turns out.”  
When the Enterprise moved, whether under thrusters, impulse power or warp power, Jean-Luc knew immediately. If asked how he knew, he might not have a quick answer. Perhaps it was a combination of things. Vibrations, no matter how small, sounds or even the mood of the crew, gave him nuances, subtle hints that informed him of the ship’s status. 

However, although he regognised the change in some of the technical readouts, there was no hint of the alteration in this ship’s attitude or motion.  
The two men glanced at each other before Jean-Luc asked carefully, “You’ve engaged the new course and speed.?”  
“Oh, yes!” the pilot offered the odd expression, thought to be a smile. “Using the new strategy, we will arrive at our end point in 2.3 hours.”  
“Two point three hours?.” Will muttered. He then gave his captain a long look. “Are you ready, sir?”  
The smile Jean-Luc summoned was unconvincing. “As ready as I can be, Number One.”  
“Then we’d best go and suit up and check our gear.”  
There was no reply from Jean-Luc as the men left the bridge and went down one deck and aft.

The screen cast an ominous shade of red on the viewer’s faces. Jean-Luc reached up and rubbed his eyes, the third time he’d done it in the last thirty minutes. Will wanted to ask his friend if he were alright, but it would be pointless to do so. Not only was it patently obvious the older man was most certainly not alright, but he also wouldn’t appreciate being asked. “No.” Will thought sadly. “Let it go.” He sighed inwardly and added, yet not without a modicum of doubt, “Trust him.”  
Instead he pointed to the schematic. “I know it’s incomplete, Captain, but this seems to be our only option for an entry point.”  
“Incomplete?” Jean-Luc replied, his tone sarcastic. “This is like a child’s line drawing.”  
“Yeah, I know. The broker’s ship was well shielded. We couldn’t get…”

He was interrupted by a call from the bridge. “Ten minutes to your departure, gentlemen.”  
Will was about to acknowledge the alert when he was halted by Jean-Luc’s upraised hand. “Pilot?” he asked with guarded confidence. “Are you able to scan the target ship?”  
“Alas no, Captain Picard, this ship cannot.”   
Jean-Luc was about to swear when the pilot continued, “however, I have access to a recent complete scan of the target vessel, done by another vessel.”  
Will’s brow furrowed. “What?”  
They could hear amusement in the pilot’s voice when it said, “You recall I mentioned there are other interested parties?”  
It was Jean-Luc who answered. “Yes.”

When the pilot said nothing further, Jean-Luc nodded, his expression clearly showing his irritation. “Why didn’t you offer these scans earlier?” There was a growing trace of anger in his voice.  
“Because I didn’t have them earlier. I have them now, though. Would you care to view them?”  
It was an effort to reply in a civil tone. “Yes.” Jean-Luc said through gritted teeth. “Yes, we would.”  
The screen abruptly changed, and the men blinked in surprise. “Holy shit.” Will muttered.   
Jean-Luc sighed, rubbed his eyes, and said, bleakly, “Merde.”

It felt to Katya that she hadn’t been outside in weeks. Though only a few days had passed since her admittance to the hospital, the room she was in had begun to feel like a cell. Tom, her regular visitor, noticed her fidgeting and her longing looks out the windows. Having correctly guessed what was bothering his friend, he decided to see if he could do anything about it. He rose from his seat and offered a smile as he said, “I’m just going out for a moment or two. I’ll be back soon.”  
Katya’s smile was fleeting as she added a vague wave. Tom was changing. He was beginning to find depths in himself he’d not known existed. And he was falling in love with Katya, though he wasn’t fully aware of that. Not yet,yet anyway. He made his way to the nurse’s station and gave what he hoped was his most disarming smile.

“Hello there,” he said with quiet friendliness. “My name’s Tom Chalmers. I’m a friend of a patient here…”  
The nurse’s smile was purely professional. “Yes, Dr. Chalmers, Katya Kurnov. Is there something she needs?”   
Tom was a little unsettled by the nurse’s coolness. He recovered quickly and used the opportunity to segue to his idea. “Needs?” he asked with a modicum of feigned surprise. “Needs … well, yes, I suppose this is a matter of need.”   
Before the nurse could say anything, Tom’s expression changed as he became serious. “Ms. Kurnov is feeling … well … confined,” he emphasised the word, hoping to stir the woman’s pity. “and I was wondering,” he continued quickly, hoping to forestall any negative response from the nurse “if it might not be possible for her to go outside for a while? Perhaps to simply walk in the gardens or sit beneath a tree?”  
The nurse’s expression was bland, yet Tom could see the compassion in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dr. Chalmers, but Ms. Kurnov was admitted by the authorities as an involuntary patient. Also, she is being medicated, and that could prove dangerous for her in the event she became disoriented.

“Whether within the facility’s buildings or outside in the grounds, it’s this hospital’s responsibility to care for her. As we do for all the patients here.”  
“I see.” Tom pursed his lips as he weighed the consequences of his next words. “You do know that she’s being represented by not one, but two legal entities? One of them being the Starfleet’s Judge Advocate Generals’ office?”  
Now the nurse’s face hardened. “It’s of no interest to me who represents her or even if she has any legal representation, Dr. Chalmers. My only concern is for her wellbeing.”  
“It’s her wellbeing that concerns me too.” Tom said, making sure his tone was respectful. “And that’s why I mentioned the JAG office. I’m not in Starfleet, but I think it’s common knowledge that they look after their own.”  
“I wasn’t aware Ms. Kurnov was a member of Starfleet.” The nurse interrupted. “If that’s the case, why isn’t she in a Starfleet medical facility? The civilian authorities usually allow that to happen, even if there’re civil legal matters pending.”  
“She’s not currently a member,” “Tom replied patiently, “but she was until recently.” He sighed and offered a sad smile. “The thing is, Nurse …?” Her ID badge was partially obscured by her cardigan.  
“Jackson. Emily Jackson.”

“Nurse Jackson,” he smiled disarmingly, “is that Ms. Kurnov’s current … difficulties can be directly attributed to her Starfleet service. Under those circumstances, both Starfleet and the JAG office are only too pleased to assist her and, in that light, I know that they’d really appreciate it if their client, Ms. Kurnov, was given the opportunity to get outside for a while.”  
Tom held up his hand so he could continue uninterrupted, “Now I know that everything you’ve said about the restrictions are valid and I appreciate your hospital’s stance, no argument there.” he smiled reassuringly. “How about I contact Starfleet Command, and request some personnel to…” he shrugged as he strove for the right term. “… subtly oversee Ms. Kurnov outside?” he hurried to clarify, “To ensure her safety.”  
The woman’s expression was bland. “Guards.” Nurse Jackson’s tone was flat, matching her facial expression. Yet, her distaste for his suggestion was made patently clear.

“Essentially, yes,” Tom agreed. “but, however, you put it, the hospital would be relieved of the duty to safeguard Ms. Kurnov if she had others, others who are trained in security matters to watch over her. Yes?”  
Nurse Jackson gave the idea some thought and offered a small, compact smile. “I’ll contact my immediate superior, Dr. Chalmers, with your request. No doubt this will have to be passed up the food chain, but there should be a decision on it by tonight.”  
Tom’s gratitude was genuine. “Thank you, Nurse Jackson.” He returned to Katya’s room feeling better than when he’d left it. He wouldn’t say anything about what he’d discussed, though. Better to wait and see what transpired. He did, however, decide to call Deanna to set that end of things in motion. Just in case.

Lannit Yan sneered as his vessel moved to its new coordinates. It was pure bravado, though, an outward show of defiance that was no more than skin deep. Inside he was terrified. So much rested on whether Rurke took the bait. If he did, and Lannit was able to spring his trap and thereby gain the vital upper hand, he would remain alive and be able to carry on with his long-term plans. Plans that held so much promise … so much potential. And endless sexual pleasure.  
However, should he fail to ensnare Rurke, all would be lost, including his life.

He had; despite Rurke’s assurance that it was impossible, managed break the broker’s tractor beam hold of his ship. Lannit was so intent on his vessel’s scanners he failed to notice the slight shimmering in the air behind him. It wasn’t until a firm, calloused hand gripped his shoulder that he became aware his ship had been boarded. As he heard Rurke’s voice, Lannit’s bowels released and he soiled his pants.  
“Did you really think our employer would give you a vessel equipped to be able to find a way to escape me?” Rurke asked in a conversational tone. The question, however, was rhetorical.  
“This ploy of yours,” Rurke gestured to the plotted course, displayed on the monitor in front of Lannit. “did you honestly think it would work?”  
Tears began streaming down Lannit’s face. “Please…” he whimpered. “Please, I…”  
“No, shh.” Rurke said before sighing. “You deserve what’s going to happen, Lannit Yan. You know that, don’t you?”  
“No!” Lannit howled. “No, it’s not fair.”

Rurke was genuinely confused. “Not fair? To whom? You?” The last word said with incredulity. “What about your victims? What about what you did to them before you killed them?”  
“They deserved it!” Lannit spat as he tried to wrench himself free of Rurke’s grip. “They only fell into my grasp because they were too stupid to avoid it.”  
“By the gods,” Rurke breathed with dread. “there’s no trace of accountability or guilt in you, Lannit Yan, is there. The cosmos will certainly be a better place without you.”   
He then added, “And I’m grateful to be the one to remove you from it.”  
Lannit sneered, finally finding real defiance within him. “Do what you will, Rurke. I’ll die knowing I’ve enjoyed myself.”  
“You’ll die screaming.” Rurke corrected quietly, but with unmistakable menace. 

Lannit’s courage wavered. “You don’t have to do anything, Rurke,” he wheedled. “if you let me go, I can make it worth your while.”  
The laughter that burst from the broker made Lannit realise all was indeed lost. As manacles were placed on his wrists, Lannit Yan tried one last time. “Please…”  
“That word doesn’t belong in your mouth, Lannit Yan. I’ve no doubt you ignored it, actually, I believe you enjoyed it when your victims said it, so I’m not going to acknowledge it from you.”  
The light shimmered again as Rurke beamed them both to his ship.

On the watching ship, still undetected, the subordinate crewmember muttered, “Two of the three are in place.”  
“Yes.” agreed the superior officer. “Now if we can get the third, everything will be in readiness for our players to act.”  
A soft snort from the lower ranked officer drew a long disapproving look. The being shrugged and offered an explanation. “Sorry, it’s just that you make it sound like some kind of stage drama.”  
After a moment’s thought, the superior officer nodded. “I suppose it is. But instead of being acted out on a stage, it’s played out here, in space.” The being sighed. “There’s a crucial difference, though. Out there,” it gestured at the viewscreen, “it’s real life and death. Nothing faked.”

Elly was sleeping and James was seated at the dining table enjoying a snack as Beverly came into the living room after she had taken a long shower and was toweling her hair. Deanna was just rising from the comm hub, a thoughtful expression on her face. “What’s up?” Beverly asked, curious as she noted her friend’s expression.  
“I’ve just had an interesting call from Tom Chalmers.”

Beverly’s face showed she’d forgotten him momentarily. “Oh!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers as he reappeared in her mind. “Yes, Tom Chalmers. Hell, Deanna, what with everything else that’s been going on, I kinda forgot about him and Katya.”  
Deanna’s kind smile showed she understood. “I have to admit I haven’t been giving them much thought lately, either.”   
After a small silence, Beverly prompted her friend. “So, what did he want?”  
“He contacted me to ask if Command could supply some … what was his term?” Deanna frowned as she searched for the words. “Ah, yes … some overseers, so Katya could have access to the gardens at the hospital. Apparently, she’s suffering a bit of cabin fever.”  
“After what, three days?” Beverly’s tone was a little scathing. But then she shook her head. “No,” she sighed. “that’s not fair. She’s been through hell and is being medicated. I bet she’s aching to get outside.” Then Beverly snorted. “Overseers?” A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

That made Deanna giggle. “Yes, I had to control myself when he said it. I guess he didn’t want to say the obvious, too much like admitting Katya can be dangerous.”  
“And is facing civil legal proceedings.” Beverly muttered. “So, he’s asking for some security personnel?”  
“Yes. He did say that his request for Katya to be permitted to leave her room hadn’t been granted by her hospital administration yet, but he said he thought it wise to see if I could organise a security detail in the hope it’s approved.”  
“Well, I should think it’s doable, isn’t it? I mean the JAG office is representing her…”  
“Yes. I’m sure they can organise something. I’ll contact them now.”  
While Deanna did that, Beverly went into the kitchen to prepare a late lunch.

The Tholian’s ship was extremely fast, giving him less time than he wanted to mull over his concerns. There was something tickling in his mind, something about the use of the word contained.  
“Why that word?” he mused. “It’s too undefined, it tells me nothing.” It was then that a very unsettling thought occurred. “Deliberately undefined.”  
He brought the ship to an immediate halt. “Am I rushing headlong into a potential disaster?” he asked himself. “How convenient that my employee was able to free me to indulge myself in Rurke’s activities … and so unexpectedly.” His black eyes narrowed. “I think more caution is required. And much more thought.”   
He set his ship in motion once again, however, at a much slower speed.

“What is he doing?” asked the higher ranked officer, his synthetic-sounding voice clearly carrying his irritation. “At the speed he’s travelling at now it’ll be fucking hours until he arrives. Rurke will’ve probably offed Lannit Yan and left to go to his next job!”  
“I doubt that, sir. Rurke knows the Tholian would like to be there when it happens. Provided Rurke knows his employer’s on his way, he’ll wait.”  
“That’s true, I suppose.” The agreement was given with reluctance. “And I suppose Rurke can play with his victim in the interim.”  
“Good point.” The lower ranked being made sure the sarcasm he meant wasn’t in his voice. “One thing’s certain, I wouldn’t want to be in Lannit Yan’s shoes.”  
“Huh. Funny you should mention shoes. I once saw some of Rurke’s handiwork. He’d meted out some of his unique brand of punishment on a victim. He began at the male’s feet and worked upward. Needless to say…” the officer shuddered at the memory, “that male found walking painful and exceptionally difficult even with the prosthetics. And from what I heard, he was unable to have sex any more, after what’d been done to his genitalia.”  
“Holy shit!” The junior officer shook his head. “What had he done to deserve that?” it asked, shocked. “The victim?” it clarified.  
“I don’t know, something bad, obviously. Apparently Rurke will punish and or kill on demand, but if his target is a real arsehole … more than the usual arsehole type … then he dishes out the punishments accordingly. The worse the arsehole is, the worse it is for them.”

“Wow. Kinda makes me feel a bit of admiration for Rurke. I mean, yes, he’s a cold-blooded killer and torturer but as long as no innocent people cop it … well…”  
“He doesn’t deserve any admiration, crewman. Oftentimes he has no idea what his victims have or haven’t done. He carries out his employers’ wishes, nothing more than that. The fact he occasionally likes to indulge in retribution for the truly deserving, is neither here nor there. He’s brutal and sextremely dangerous. And probably a psychopath.”

Rurke stared at his victim dispassionately as he screamed. Lannit was vacillating between insane, enraged, incoherent screeching, and pitiful pleading. None of it had any effect on Rurke. He had removed his clothing and was wearing nothing but a white, thick, synthetic, full-length apron which covered him from his shoulders to mid shin. The small room was entered by descending three steps. The walls, floor and low ceiling were all coated in the same off-white colour and had there was a bench on one side where his implements were displayed.  
In the centre of the room was a grey metal chair-like device. It was motor-driven and fully articulated and could, at the touch of a control, change its shape. For now, it was flat and slightly reclined.  
The device had hard metal restraints, many in fact, as those unfortunates that ended up in this room were from a wide variety of species, so Rurke had to have the means to fully imobilise each of them no matter their size and shape or number of appendages, or lack thereof.  
Lannit Yan was naked. Snot, sweat, and tears ran in shiny tracks at an angle down the sides of his face to mix and spread over and under his neck. Rurke’s nostrils flared as, within the reeking miasma of Lannit’s urine and faeces, he detected the unmistakable smell of his victim’s terror.

The broker stared implacably before offering a smile and a nod. Lannit’s screeching suddenly stopped and the two males regarded each other.  
“I’m glad you’re so terrified, Lannit Yan.” Rurke said with a sigh of obvious satisfaction. “I hope this is a learning experience for you, I do hope you realise that what you’re experiencing now is what your victims felt when you tortured them.”  
Lannit sneered and tried to spit at his tormenter, but his mouth was too dry to summon any saliva. “I hate you.” he said instead, his flat, black eyes blazing. But then his innate cunning showed itself. “But you’re forgetting I experienced profound pleasure when I did what I did. No doubt you’re feeling the same. Are we so different, you and I, Rurke? Is your apron opaque and heavy so I can’t see your cock’s become hard? Do my screams excite you, Rurke?”  
Outrage filled every cell of Rurke’s being. His hand twitched, the fingers tightening on the implement he held. His eyes slid to Lannit’s feet, the soles of which were already sliced into ribbons, the resultant blood spill forming dark pools on the floor. Soon there would be enough to flow into the shallow channels that intersected a grill-covered drain under the chair.  
Rurke calmed himself. This ploy had been used many times before, and by many of his victims. The broker knew who and what he was and, although his opinion of himself may have been a touch more complimentary that reality, he was confident he could never be compared to the likes of Lannit Yan.

He smiled and offered a wink. “Nice try, Lannit, I’ll give you credit for making the attempt, but I’ll do what I do at my own pace. Making me angry in an effort to hasten your death isn’t going to work.”   
He smiled and lifted the tool in his hand. “A bit more slicing over the tops of your feet, and then taking care to slice the tendons above your heels, then I think I’ll use the steel truncheon. If I strike your feet with just the right amount of power, not only will I break all the bones, but the pain will be amplified.”   
He took a step forward but then hesitated. “Those toenails …” he remarked casually, as he studied Yannit’s feet. “they’ve grown back quite quickly, since you left Haven, haven’t they?” Rurke smiled with chilling intent. “Hmm,” he mused, “they should come off. Don’t want anything to shield your bones.”  
Over the discordant shrieks of Lannit Yan, Rurke slowly tore off his toenails. The broker was impressed by how well bedded they were. He then proceeded with his work as planned. He knew his employer was on his way.

Will looked over his shoulder and frowned at the pilot. “Really?” he said with a distinct note of disbelief. “You’re saying you can get us on board that ship without triggering any kind of automated response?” The big, burly acting captain cast his CO an incredulous look, causing Jean-Luc to frown.  
“Number One,” he said quietly, “Let the pilot finish. I’m sure it wouldn’t’ve spoken without being sure that what it said was true.”  
“Oh!” Haf softly gasped and offered a slight bow. “So well said, Captain Picard, thank you.” The being made the odd, undefined facial expression again and refocused its attention on Will. “My acquisition of the most recent scans not only show the tiny, miniscule flaw in the ship’s security systems, but also how to exploit that flaw to circumvent the said systems, and then enlarge those scans considerably to enable your passage through the ship.”  
“And making it possible for us to not only get aboard, but to remain undetected?” His tone showed Will was still doubtful. In the short period of time the Enterprise had had to try and scan the ship, they had failed. The Enterprise was state-of-the-art. If they couldn’t achieve a result with all the cutting-edge technology they had, how could this being have access to technology that can, whilst presumably being an ally?   
“Why,” thought Will, “was this being in possession of this kind of tech?”

“I see you are unimpressed.” There was a note of irritation in the being’s tone. However, it seemed to quickly shake it off. “Oh well,” it said brightly, yet again treating the watching humans to the odd smile/grimace expression.   
“Nothing to be gained by indulging in any pettiness. This ship is ready to transport you to the hull plating on the target ship where I assure you access will be achieved. Once inside you will find that your ingress will have been undetected. Now,” the pilot held up a hand and extended one finger. “it is my understanding that Rurke, aka, The Broker is at present in a small room on the port side, two decks below the bridge. I believe he’s interviewing Lannit Yan. This means, once inside, you will have to traverse from the starboard side to the port side, then ascend 1.5 decks.”  
“One point five?” Jean-Luc repeated, a frown of confusion marring his brow.  
“Indeed, Captain Picard. One point five. The room I mentioned has, we believe, been purpose built. Above it a standard-sized room has been altered and below it, a storage area has also been altered. There is no outward evidence of this, indeed it’s not until you enter this specially built room that you will notice any difference.”

Haf seemed to frown.” Please be advised,” the pilot said gravely, “there are steps to negotiate, three in all. It would be most unfortunate if you entered with rapid forward momentum only to find yourselves sprawled face down on the deck with an armed and angry psychopath more than ready and willing to demonstrate his displeasure at being disturbed.”   
There was a small hiatus and then the pilot lifted a hand to cover its mouth as it snickered. “Oh, I do apologise for that utterly deplorable pun.” it sniggered again then muttered, “Psychopath … disturbed …”  
Jean-Luc cleared his throat and said tightly, “You were telling us about the room?”

The pilot immediately sobered and cleared its throat. “Yes, sorry. As this room appears to be in a not regularly used area of the ship, it would be exceedingly easy to overlook. I have taken the liberty of downloading the precise location of the room into your heads-up display within your helmets. For this reason, I suggest you keep the helmets on, at the very least until after you enter the room.”  
Will nodded and glanced at his helmet, gripped in his left hand. Both men wore evac suits and Will was beginning to sweat in his. Once the helmet was put on and sealed, the suit’s cooling mechanism would immediately activate. Once out in space, it would automatically change to heating. “Well, we’re as ready as we can be.” Will sighed.  
Jean-Luc agreed with a decisive nod. “Yes, let’s not waste any more time. Beam us over, please, pilot.”  
After offering a shallow bow, the being pressed a tab and the two humans disappeared.

Tom stood a little distance away from Katya, content to watch silently. It was obvious she was enjoying her liberation from her room. She’d been granted permission to take two one-hour breaks, each day. One in the morning and one in the afternoon.   
Deanna had been successful in gaining the use of a security team and she was pleased when she walked up to Tom, to note that they were not obvious at all.  
Katya moved out of the dappled shade of a large elm tree and lifted her head, her eyes closed as the afternoon sun bathed her face.  
“She’s enjoying herself.” Deanna observed quietly. Tom, who hadn’t heard the counsellor’s approach, jumped slightly, but then offered an embarrassed smile. “Yes, she certainly is.”  
“How was she this morning?”  
Tom’s smile faded a little. “Ok …”  
“But?”

With a sigh, Tom gestured to the bench nearby. The two kept their eyes on Katya as they sat and talked. “I think she was hesitant.” Tom elaborated. “Maybe even a bit scared?”  
Deanna nodded as she replied, “That’s understandable, given the circumstances. Keep in mind the reason she’s been admitted. I’d suggest she doesn’t trust herself.”  
“Ah, yes, I see.”  
Deanna glanced at the man and smiled knowingly. “Your feelings towards her are growing.”  
He flushed and gave his head a rueful shake. “Is it that obvious?”  
“Not obvious, no.” Deanna replied gently. “But I’m an empath, Tom. I don’t have to see any outward evidence of how you feel. I sense it.”  
Tom grimaced as he dragged his eyes to Deanna. “Oh.”  
The counsellor was keen to ease any of Tom’s worries. “And I think it’s lovely.”  
That brought a slow smile. Tom returned his gaze to Katya as he sighed. “I didn’t mean to fall for her, Deanna. It just kinda crept up on me.”   
“It usually does.” her gentle humour was clear. Deanna caught Tom’s attention by placing her hand on his arm. Once he was focused on her she said, “You’ll have to be very patient, Tom. Katya’s not sure about herself and I’m not just talking referring to her recent troubles. She’s not sure about many things … including personal issues, such as her sexual orientation.”  
Tom’s eyes clouded a little. “Yeah, I think I picked up on that. She told me about how she’s not sure.” He offered a brave smile. “But you know what? It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be more than content just to see her happy, and if that means we’re never more than friends, so be it. I’ll be ok with that.”

Deanna’s smile was gentle. “And that’s the measure of a true friend, Tom.”  
The moment passed as both people watched Katya, until Deanna sensed Tom becoming alert. She scanned the surrounding area and frowned as she saw a woman approaching Katya. “Tom?” Deanna asked with quietly spoken tension, “do you recognise that person?”  
He began to shake his head, then hesitated and changed it to a nod. “Not personally, but she works at GWT. I’ve seen her there.”  
Deanna noted the security team had moved in and taken a more active alert status. As everyone watched, there was a collective sigh of relief when Katya greeted the newcomer positively. It was obvious they were acquainted.

“I haven’t seen you for a while.” Katya said quietly. Her visitor snorted softly. “Yeah, well it’s not like you’re easy to find.”  
Katya looked around and guided the woman to a nearby bench. After they’d seated themselves, the former Starfleet officer adopted a wary mien. “So why are you here?”  
“I would’ve thought that was obvious.” 

By her tone, Katya easily picked up the incredulity. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Humour me.” Katya said, her tone chilly.   
The woman shifted nervously and cast her eyes around before replying. “You asked me to sniff around Sally McCormack’s uncle … see if there was anything, you know, like evidence, about his predatory activities.”  
Excitement skittered through Katya’s body. She struggled to remain calm. “And is there?”  
“Yes!” The woman hissed. “Look, I can’t access anything official, not yet anyway, but his PA, the ever-so-proper Calvin Ebson, told me that an official file exists. He was told by McCormack himself, that certain aspects of his past should never be made available to the public.”  
Katya snorted derisively. “Really? Why would he tell you something like that? What does this Calvin Ebson want? What’s his agenda?”  
By the distressed expression on the woman’s face, Katya knew she’d touched a nerve. “He never came right out with it,” the woman sighed, “but I got the impression that his cousin was abused by McCormack when she was little.”  
“Shit!” Katya spat hotly. “So why didn’t that come to light?”  
“Because the woman committed suicide.”  
“Oh, damn.”

“Yeah. Calvin told me he actively sought the job of personal assistant to McCormack with the explicit aim to gain proof that Carl McCormack is a sexual predator and a paedophile.”  
“Will he help us?” Katya’s gaze was intense.  
“I think so.” The woman sighed and made a cutting gesture with her hand. “But he won’t do anything until he has incontrovertible proof.”  
“But that might take years!” Katya protested. “That’s even if he finds any.”  
“True.” the woman said quietly. “But now he knows we’re looking too, maybe he’ll be encouraged to dig deeper?”  
Katya stood and turned. “It’s not fast enough …”

She got no further. There was a shouted warning as a bright orange beam lanced out and struck Katya’s informant in the chest. There was enough power in the beam to tip her up and backwards, over the bench seat.   
She was dead before she hit the ground. Katya hadn’t received all of Starfleet’s training, yet she reacted quickly. Dropping to the ground immediately, she rolled under the bench. She heard curtly issued commands and sensed rather than saw bodies in motion. There were several more energy blasts before she heard a strangled cry.  
“Active shooter down!” Someone shouted. Hands reached for Katya and she resisted until she heard Tom’s voice. “It’s ok, Katya, you can come out, the shooter’s been taken out.”  
She allowed Tom and one of the security team to help her to her feet. Her nostrils flared as the smell of seared flesh reached her nostrils. A quick glance at the body lying on the grass behind the bench seat in a grotesquely twisted tangle of arms and legs was enough to tell her all she needed to know. There was no point in enquiring. Her informant was dead.

Strong hands gripped her arms and began to lead her away. Katya became aware of several beings who had formed a cordon around her and were ushering her back towards the main building of the hospital.   
“Wait.” she murmured, still shocked by what had occurred. When no one reacted to her single word, she brought her feet to a stop. The pressure of the hands increased, and a roughened voice said, “Keep moving, please, Ms. Kurnov.”  
“No.” Katya said with more determination. “No, I want to know what the hell is happening?”  
“We’ll talk about it once we’re inside.”   
The voice was insistent. Katya tried to see the speaker, but his face was turned away as he scanned the surroundings. Finally seeing the wisdom of his words, Katya began to walk again. Nothing more was said until they were back in her room. With shock now setting in, Katya allowed Tom to guide her to a chair. She noticed the group had not entered but had taken up guarding stations outside her room, in the gardens, and along the corridor.  
Deanna too had accompanied Tom and Katya inside and, once she saw that the shaken woman had taken her seat, knelt and placed her hands on Katya’s knees. The fear and confusion were plain to see in the younger woman’s eyes. “Deanna …” Katya said, her voice trembling. “what’s happening?”

Ensuring her tone was even and her voice gentle, Deanna said, “While we don’t have any details yet, it would seem that someone has deliberately targeted the woman who was speaking with you.”  
“Are you sure?” Tom’s interrupted, his voice tight, clearly exhibiting his anger and shock. “Whoever it was might just as well been out to kill Katya.”  
“That’s true.” Deanna conceded carefully. “But the shot was expertly placed. If the shooter was aiming at Katya, then their aim was appallingly bad.”  
Tom snorted derisively. “Perhaps, but still…”  
Deanna’s long, steady look silenced Tom. He showed his acquiescence by bowing his head. The counsellor used that to turn her attention back to Katya. “Who was she, Katya? What were you two talking about?”  
When the former ensign didn’t reply, Deanna sought to prompt her. “Tom said she worked at Global Warp Technologies. Is that right? Did you know her from there, from your former workplace?”  
“Yes.” Katya replied so softly Deanna barely heard her. “Yes, I knew her from work.”

“And what were you talking about? Was she simply visiting as a friend, or was there another reason for her visit?”  
“She wasn’t a friend … not really.” Katya said softly before glancing up at Tom. “Not like Tom. He’s a real friend.”  
Deanna smiled kindly. “Yes, he certainly is.” There followed a long, but not uncomfortable silence, broken when Katya said quietly, “I paid her for information.”  
“About what?” Deanna’s question was asked gently.  
“Not what, who.” Katya spat. Her jaw muscles clenched and then relaxed as she said in a calmer tone, “Carl McCormack.” The words came out on a sigh. Katya lifted her head and speared Deanna with an uncompromising stare.  
“He’s a sexual predator … a paedophile … and I … we …” she glanced at Tom for confirmation, “… think that his niece, Sally, is a victim of his.”  
Tom took up the conversation. “We have no proof, at least not yet, but the stuff we do have, admittedly hearsay,” he admitted grudgingly, “points to Carl McCormack being a pedophilic sexual predator. He even said something to me that gave me pause for thought, and if it’s true, then that would go a long way to explain Sally’s deplorable behaviour.”  
Deanna frowned as she murmured, “Sally McCormack is one of his victims?”  
“Yes!” Tom exclaimed. “And, if what we’ve heard is true, a long-term one.”

“So, you’re saying the abuse has continued into her adulthood?”  
“Yes.” It was Katya who replied. “Why? Why do you ask?”  
Deanna sighed. “Because it’s atypical. Usually paedophiles lose interest in their victims once the grow beyond their preferred age range. To continue to abuse a victim into adulthood indicates a more complex philia.”  
“Maybe so,” Tom said bitterly, “but that doesn’t help anyone, least of all his victims.”  
Deanna communicated her acceptance of his comment with an inclination of her head. “So how does this relate to Katya and her present situation?”  
The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a nurse. “Ms. Kurnov,” he said warmly. “I’m here to administer your medications.”  
Tom stepped forward and held up a hand. “Wait.” he said firmly. “Ms. Kurnov has had this afternoons meds.”  
“Yes.” The nurse agreed. “But due to the recent … disturbances … Ms. Kurnov’s doctors have decided that additional medications are required.”

Tom sent Deanna a panicked look, prompting her to say, “I am a counsellor, a qualified psychological therapist, and I don’t think additional medication is necessary.”  
The nurse smiled, but it was a plastic expression. “That may be so, Counsellor, however you are not one of Ms. Kurnov’s treating doctors.”  
Deanna had no option but to acquiesce. Katya rose to her feet but was stymied by the nurse. He gave a placatory gesture with his hand.   
“Please, Ms. Kurnov, don’t protest or resist. These meds have been ordered. They’ll be administered despite any objections you raise. You’re here as an unwilling admission, under the auspices of the local authorities, and as such, all medical decisions undertaken by those entrusted with your care will be carried out regardless.”  
Katya seemed to deflate. “All right.” she sighed and stayed unresisting as the nurse administered two hyposprays. To Deanna’s raised eyebrows the nurse said, “I’m sure you’ll have access to Ms. Kurnov’s file. Please liaise with the relevant doctors, Counsellor.”  
Deanna nodded but said nothing. Katya, feeling the effects of the drugs. went to her bed and allowed Tom to help her to lie down. He cast Deanna a knowing look and she nodded surreptitiously. Once Katya was settled and had beguan to doze, Deanna and Tom left the room.

The Tholian pushed away from his console and grimaced. He had given much thought to the current situation but was no further in deciding what to do than when he started.   
He scowled and shook his head. “This is unacceptable.” he muttered sourly. “I face danger no matter which way I turn. Going back to find out precisely what contained means may well place me in the not-so-welcoming arms of the Federation. But joining Rurke to not only witness Lannit Yan’s well-deserved demise, but also capture Picard, may also compromise my safety.” He sighed and rubbed his troublesome eyes. “No matter what I do, I face the potential for disaster.”  
He sighed and turned to watch the passing vista of the stars. “I have to decide.” He closed his eyes and brought up images of each scenario. Ultimately it proved to be an unexpectedly easy decision. Of the two ongoing actions, the opportunity to capture Picard, and to witness the torture and death of Lannit Yan, was by far the most preferred.  
Having made his decision, the Tholian entered the command to increase his vessel’s speed. He also sent a heavily encrypted message to Rurke.   
“Continue with your efforts,” it read. “but hold the end result until I join you.” The Tholian still witheolding any mention of Picard’s impending arrival.  
There was no reply, nor was one expected.

On the hidden ship the lesser ranked being grinned wolfishly and took a short moment to bask in eager anticipation. “Sir?” it enquired, barely keeping the excitement from its voice.  
The higher ranked being turned its head in acknowledgement and the first speaker took the gesture as permission to continue. “The Tholian seems to have made up his mind.”  
There was irritation in the listener as it replied, “Meaning what, exactly?”  
“He has resumed his previous course and speed, sir.” The speaker then gestured to the console. “And a heavily encrypted communique has been sent from his ship to Rurke’s.”  
The faceplate did nothing to obscure the grim smile on the leader’s face. “So,” it said quietly, “it seems the final player has taken the bait and will be joining us shortly.” It turned to gaze out at Rurke’s ship. “Our operatives have gained access?”  
“Yes, sir. At present they’re making their way through the broker’s ship.”  
“And I take it their presence hasn’t been detected?”

“That’s correct, sir. Rurke is completely unaware of his … visitors.”   
“Good. Hopefully, he’ll be too involved in what he’s doing to Lannit Yan to react as quickly as he usually would once he does become aware of his guests...” the senior nodded pensively and left the comment open.  
“Indeed, sir.” The solemn tone and nod of agreement from the junior officer was evidence of its worry. “It may be the deciding factor in whether or not our operatives survive.”  
“Yes.” That one word carried frustration as well as concern. “And we can only do so much to assist them.” The being settled into the command chair and gestured to Rurke’s ship. “Our number one priority is to capture all three components, or as many of the three as possible. However,” it held up one gloved hand and extended one of its six fingers, “under no circumstances can we allow any of this…” it waved its hand to indicate their ship, “… to fall into hostile hands.” There was an audible sigh before it added, “and, unfortunately, that includes some of our allies.”  
The younger officer scowled, but the expression went unseen. “So much for the unity of the Federation members.” it thought silently and sourly. However, it was just as committed to the mission as its commander. The stakes were exceptionally high. The being knew that, in the event of the discovery of their ship, or even their very existence, they would immediately destroy their vessel and themselves with it.  
It sighed softly as it scanned the latest readouts. “It might’ve been helpful to let the operatives know that we’re just as vulnerable as they are. And,” it sighed again, “just as expendable.”

Will wanted to look back at his captain, he felt he needed to reassure himself that the older man was coping, but such was the tension and worry coursing through his large frame, he resisted the urge and refocused on navigating his way through Rurke’s ship.  
Their entry into the vessel had been as smooth as the pilot had predicted. Will suspected the enigmatic being had played a part in creating the flaw in the ship’s shielding, a suspicion Jean-Luc shared and confessed when he muttered, “I’m guessing a modicum of technical skullduggery’s been applied here.”  
“More than a modicum, I think, Captain.” Will replied as he studied the heads-up display inside his helmet. “More like a shit load.”  
Will rarely swore in the older man’s presence, but Jean-Luc said nothing, in fact he snorted with wry humour. The remark had helped to ease some of the tension and Jean-Luc appreciated it. Having plotted their course, Will pointed ahead. “This way, sir.”  
As Jean-Luc fell into step behind his first officer, he gripped his phaser tightly, doing his best to quell the trembling in his hands.

Beverly was deep in thought as she moved through the hospital. James held his mother’s hand, his eyes wide as he took in his surroundings. Beverly’s other hand rubbed Elly’s back through the padded material of her carry pouch. Beverly’s consultation with Katya’s doctors had given her much to consider. Deanna had informed her of the incident in the gardens and Beverly was finding it hard to not connect what had happened to Katya’s present problems.  
She arrived at the conference room just as the leader of the security detail was finishing a call to her superiors. The tall Andorian cast a wary glace at the children before gesturing for Beverly to proceed her into the room. Inside, Deanna sent a smile of greeting and indicated two chairs beside hers and Tom’s. Once seated, the friends turned their attention to the Andorian.  
“I’ve just received some very interesting intel.” the female said, her antennae curling forwards. “It would seem that the individual we nullified was thought to have no identity. However, it’s just been discovered that he does indeed have an ID, and a remarkably interesting one, at that.”

Both women and Tom stayed silent, knowing the security leader would elaborate. The tall blue female sighed, and her regret was obvious as she said, “He was once in Starfleet … and in security, no less.”  
Predictably, it was Beverly who blurted, “Then why was he so hard to identify?”  
The Andorian’s expression hardened. “Because he’d done a damned good job of obscuring his ID!” She compressed her lips and strove to calm herself before continuing. “He’d done all the standard things … altered fingerprints and eyes, etc., but we don’t often see manipulated and supplanted DNA.”  
“What?” Beverly spat incredulously. “His DNA had been tampered with?”

“Yes, and in such a way that we failed at first to detect it. In fact,” the Andorian looked embarrassed, “had it not been for a fundamental error on the scientists’ responsible part, we never would’ve seen it.”   
“What was the fundamental error?” Deanna asked.  
“They used the DNA of someone known to us. Someone who was clearly not the person whose body we had.”  
“So, who’s DNA had they used?”  
The security chief waved away Beverly’s question. “That’s not relevant, what is relevant is that we were able to disregard our initial findings and dig deeper. We now know who the shooter is,” The female’s expression became grim. “and, perhaps, who employed him.”

“So, it was a deliberate, planned action?” Deanna asked quietly. “This wasn’t the act of a deranged individual?”  
“No.” The Andorian sighed. “Although in the preliminary stages, our enquiries have shown a link, albeit a tenuous one, between the shooter and GWT.”  
Tom shot to his feet. “Are you saying that Global Warp Technologies is responsible for this outrage?”  
The shrug was nonchalant, but the Andorian’s voice carried her tension. “So, it would seem.”  
“Fucking Carl McCormack!” Tom seethed. “You need not look any further than that … that … arsehole!”  
Beverly leaned over and quickly placed her hands over James’s ears. Her heated look at Tom made him grimace. “Sorry.” he mumbled with embarrassment as he regained his seat.  
“We’re keeping an open mind.” The tall female’s irritation was barely suppressed. “At this stage we’re still gathering information. Once we’ve uncovered all we can find, we’ll act.”  
“But what’s the link?” Beverly said with barely suppressed vehemence. “What’s connecting the shooter to GWT?”  
“I can’t divulge that at this time … “

Beverly was on her feet now, in full blown anger. “Then why the hell did you tell us?”  
The Andorian’s eyes blazed and her antennae laid back over her white hair. “Because, Doctor, you, Counsellor Troi, Ms. Kurnov and you, Doctor Chalmers,” her angry glare seared Tom, “may be in danger.”   
Before there was any reaction, the security chief continued, “We can’t eliminate the perceived threat. The woman murdered was an informant of Ms. Kurnov and all of you are enmeshed in her current situation. It’s not a stretch to consider that whoever engaged the shooter might be motivated to hire another assassin to eliminate you all, if you present a threat, even an implied one.”  
“My god…” Deanna murmured. “What on earth has Katya stirred up?”  
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.” The Andorian said quietly. “If we can discover what’s caused this …” she offered a vague wave of her hand, “what’s caused this reaction from whoever feels so threatened that they’d resort to such violence, we’re that much closer to discovering their identity.”

Tom lowered his head and stared at his hands. “Sally McCormack.” he muttered. “You need to talk to Sally McCormack.”  
“We will, Doctor Chalmers, but is there anything you can tell us? Anything you feel we need to know about her?”  
“Ha!” Tom barked derisively. “How much time have you got?”  
The Andorian took a seat next to Tom and encouraged him to sit as well. “Tell me.” She said with quiet determination.  
It was almost twenty minutes before Tom’s tirade trickled to a halt. It was then that Beverly and Deanna added their observations about Sally. The security chief sat back and tented her fingers under her chin. “Well,” she said, obviously impressed and not a little overwhelmed. “that gives me a lot to work on.” 

She glanced at a device attached to her wrist. “Everything that’s been said here has been recorded and I’ll be opening several new avenues of enquiry.” She rose and gave a shallow bow.   
“Thank you for your cooperation, I feel confident your input has furthered our investigation in a significantly positive way.”  
After the tall, blue female had left, Beverly snorted derisively. “Wow, a cliché. Just what we needed.”  
“Beverly,” Deanna admonished gently, “that’s unfair.”

After a moment, Beverly offered a nod. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that, once again, we’ve been sidelined.”  
Tom’s vehemence surprised the women as he spat, “Fuck that! What about Katya? Of all of us, she’s the one who’s at most risk. What’s being done to protect her?”   
The women looked at each other and it was Deanna who replied. “Tom,” she responded quietly, “she’s here, in a secure medical facility.”  
The man snorted and made a scoffing gesture. “Oh, and that’s going to secure her safety?” He shook his head. “What’s to stop another assassin gaining entry inside? It’s already been demonstrated that no one’s safe outside.”  
Beverly sighed and placed a hand on the agitated man’s forearm. “Vigilance.” she said. “Constant vigilance, Tom, and that security officer knows what’s what. She’s been told everything we know. I’m sure she’ll ensure Katya’s properly protected.”  
Tom sighed and his body lost some of its rigidity. “Yeah,” he said resignedly. “I suppose.” He looked towards the door and gestured with his hand. “I’m going to sit with Katya … to be there when she wakes up.” Deanna went to him and gave his arm a squeeze. “That’s a good idea, Tom. She needs you.”

Tom nodded and then left. Beverly’s quietly muttered, “Poor man.” made Deanna grimace. “Yes, poor Tom,” she sighed, and then added “but Katya’s just as deserving of our pity.”  
Beverly absently ran her hand through James’ hair. He looked up and said “Maman? That man says bad words.”  
The doctor smiled and gave a nod of agreement. “Yes, he does, James, but he was upset when he said them, and he’d forgotten you and Elly were there.”  
James nodded solemnly and then said, “I wanna pee, maman.”  
“Ok.” Beverly grinned. “I’m sure there’s a bathroom nearby. Come on, let’s go and find one.”  
As the group left the room, Beverly said to her friend, “I agree with you, Deanna, both of them are in a dreadful situation.” Beverly was about to say more when the counsellor’s communicator chirruped. The petite woman tapped it to receive the call.   
“Counsellor Troi?” the disembodied voice enquired.

“Yes, this is Troi.” She recognised the mysterious commander’s voice.  
“Would you and Doctor Crusher like to join me for coffee? Say, in 30 minutes?”  
The two women shared a glance before Deanna replied, “Yes, although Doctor Picard’s children are with us. The same place as before?”  
There was a slight pause before the voice said, “No, I think a different locale is called for. I’ll organise someone to mind the children, if that’s alright, Doctor Picard?” she didn’t wait for a reply before continuing with, “Meet me in the main atrium at Command.”  
Having received a nod of acceptance from Beverly. Deanna replied, “Understood, Troi out.”  
Beverly was chewing her lip, her eyes unfocused as her mind turned the invitation over and over. They found a bathroom and, while they waited for James, she said, “That was odd.”  
Deanna offered a soft snort. “Huh, which part? The contacting me via a Starfleet comm system part, or the use of our names and positions part, or the having us meet at Command part?”  
“All of it.” Beverly replied with a small sneer. “Deanna,” the redhead said, “I smell a rat.”

“I do too ... maybe.”  
“Maybe?” Beverly’s eyebrows rose. “There’s no maybe about it, surely?”  
Deanna shrugged. “That commander told us she’d do what she could to update us, and she did intimate that things might be resolved soon. Perhaps we’re going to get some official confirmation?”  
Panic flashed in Beverly’s eyes. “Ok, perhaps, but confirmation of what? News of success, or a notification of a death … or deaths.”  
Deanna took her friend’s hands in hers and looked into her eyes. “There’s only one way to find out, Beverly.” The smaller woman sighed and did her best to keep her voice from shaking as she added, “And just so you know, I’m just as frightened as you are.”  
Fighting to hold back her tears, Beverly nodded and said quietly, “Together. We do this together.”  
“Yes.”

Rurke’s ears were ringing in the sudden silence following Lannit’s descent into unconsciousness. The volume of his screaming had reached such levels that it occasionally made the broker wince. He briefly considered whether Lannit’s species had a second larynx, one that only activated under extreme conditions. Giving a mental shrug, Rurke opened a small device and used it to deliver a small puff of vapour directly into Lannit’s nostrils. His head shot up and his nose flared as his eyes opened wide.  
“Ah.” Rurke smiled. “You’re back.”

Snot, tears and sweat made Lannit’s skin look shiny but oddly puckered, as if the tissue was slightly waterlogged. Rurke’s nose crinkled as the mixture of unpleasant odours wafted up from Lannit’s still seated body.   
The broker sighed and reached for a remote control. With a barely discernable whirr, the seat began to change shape. Lannit Yan screeched in pain and fear as the cold mental contorted his body until he was lying flat, his spine bowed backwards, with his arms spread and his legs splayed painfully wide. The shrieking increased when the band around his head tightened and pulled his head so far back, he feared his neck would snap.  
Rurke took the time he required to ensure his victim was positioned precisely before he picked up a heavy, round, solid metal rod. He moved and squatted so he could speak into Lannit’s ear. “I wonder if you know how painful even the slightest tap of a heavy object is on an abdominal area stretched to almost tearing point?”

Rurke’s tone was conversational and Lannit could do nothing but scream by way of a reply. “You probably do know,” Rurke continued, unmoved, “I mean I can’t imagine you wouldn’t’ve applied the technique to your victims.” He then grinned coldly. “but I’d wager you’ve no idea how much it really hurts.”  
With that, Rurke straightened and moved to stand beside Lannit’s body. He tested the tension of the abdominal area by giving it three sharp taps of his fingertips. There was a momentary silence, Lannit’s body quivering and then, when the pain receptors in his brain registered the agony, he shrieked. Rurke nodded with satisfaction and lifted the rod and held it 20 centimetres above the quaking skin. He then let it fall.  
It was at this moment, while Lannit was screaming at an incredible volume that Will and Jean-Luc burst into the room.

At first Rurke didn’t react, causing Will to briefly think their entry into the room had gone unnoticed. The broker, ever aware, used the acting captain’s miniscule hesitation to shift slightly and flick, with surprising strength, the metal bar he scooped up in Will’s direction.   
The big human flinched, but it was a purely instinctive reaction. Had Jean-Luc not given him a sudden sideways shove, the bar would’ve smashed into Will’s face plate.   
The older man had dropped into a defensive crouch, the phaser in his hand aimed at Rurke’s head, but he was unable to completely stop the tremor that made it wobble. Rurke straightened and pointed at the weapon, saying dryly, “I hope your trigger finger is steadier than the rest of your hand, Captain Picard.”

Jean-Luc swallowed in an attempt to dampen his dry mouth, and yet was unable to summon his voice. Will seemed to understand what was happening and moved to stand beside and slightly ahead of his friend.  
“You need not worry, Rurke, the captain is perfectly able to vaporize you.”  
“I’ve no doubt.” The broker smiled, his eyes glittering flatly. “So, tell me, acting captain Riker, what now?”  
Before Will could reply, Jean-Luc rose to his full height and stepped up beside his exec. The broker and the captain stared at each other until Jean-Luc said quietly, “You are in our custody. We’re apprehending you and…” he pointed a shaking finger at Lannit, “that,” his revulsion was clearly evident, “for crimes against the Federation and Starfleet.”

“Crimes against the Federation and Starfleet?” Rurke’s tone was incredulous. “What crimes? I’ve committed no crimes against either the Federation or Starfleet.”  
Anger coloured Jean-Luc’s voice as he spat, “You don’t call purchasing Starfleet personnel a crime? How dare you?”  
“Captain,” the condescension in Rurke’s voice caused Jean-Luc’s anger to grow. The captain unclipped his helmet, the gentle hiss of exchanged atmosphere loud in the otherwise quiet room.  
“Captain,” Rurke repeated, “I’m a broker, it’s what I do. If a crime’s been committed, then it’s my employer you need to talk to, not me.”  
Will’s expression showed his interest. He too removed his helmet before saying, “Ah, yes, your employer.” The grin on the tall man’s face was cold. “That’d be the Tholian, wouldn’t it?”  
Rurke shrugged by way of reply.

“And where would he be, I wonder?” Will looked at the phaser in his hand and casually raised the power setting. “Have you any idea how much pain can be inflicted at level 8 on one of these?” he asked as he waved the phaser slightly, his eyes cold and glittering.  
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Rurke’s smile was equally chilly. “However, the use of a phaser to extract intel won’t change anything. The whereabouts of my employer is not information I possess. Where he goes is his business, not mine.”  
The broker then gave both humans a wry look. “Besides, I’m sure the ship that’s been shadowing me these last days is aware of the location of my…” Rurke looked down at Lannit’s sweating body and grinned. “our employer’s location. You need not bother trying to gain information we simply don’t have.”  
Will had glanced at Jean-Luc when Rurke had mentioned a shadowing ship. Both men knew it couldn’t’ve been the vessel they’d been on. Jean-Luc spent a few quick moments in thought and then asked, “How long have you been shadowed?”  
The question caused Rurke’s thin eyebrows to rise triumphantly. “You’re unaware of it?” He tilted his head, a wolfish grin irritating the watching men. “How interesting. I wonder whose agenda you’re really serving?”  
“Shut your fucking mouth!” Jean-Luc shouted in an uncharacteristically vehement display. “I’m taking you and that…” he pointed his phaser at Lannit Yan, “… into custody.” He then glanced at Will and gave a curt nod. The acting captain mirrored the action and reached behind him to retrieve two sets of manacles.  
“Hands behind your back, Rurke.” Will commanded.

As Will secured the broker, Jean-Luc took the remote and, after a few tests and some screams from Lannit, managed to bring the table into an upright position. The captain stepped up close and stared into Lannit’s face.   
The being’s eyes widened in fear as Jean-Luc raised his phaser and placed the tip at Lannit’s temple. What might’ve occurred was circumvented when Will’s large hand closed over his captain’s. “It’s alright, sir.” Will muttered consolingly. “Let the courts deal with him.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes still glittered dangerously as he nodded. “Yes,” he murmured softly, “the courts.”

Lannit saw an opportunity and took it. “Rurke’s responsible!” he oozed with unctuous enthusiasm. “I would never have even thought to do such awful things if I wasn’t sure I had a ready and willing buyer.”  
Jean-Luc’s phaser was back at Lannit’s temple with breathtaking speed. “There’re no depths to your venal depravity, is there?” he asked rhetorically and with decided menace.  
Lannit was wise to refrain from answering. There were several tense moments before Jean-Luc took a deep breath and lowered his weapon. “You will answer for what you’ve done, Lannit Yan, but your fate is not mine to determine.”  
Rurke’s comment made Jean-Luc sneer. “Ultimately, Captain Picard,” the broker sighed. “we’re all accountable for what we’ve done.”  
“Shallow words from one so burdened by so many crimes against so many beings.” Jean-Luc snapped.

Rurke shrugged. “As I’ve already told you, Picard, I simply did my employer’s bidding.”  
Just then Will’s communicator came to life. “Commander Riker?” The now-familiar voice of the pilot said. “Is everything alright?”  
“Yes.” Will sighed. “Prepare to beam 4 back to your ship.”  
Will watched as Jean-Luc took the second pair of manacles and applied them to the now released Lannit Yan. The being was careful to not complain about how painfully tight the restraints were.  
“Pilot,” Will said, “Energise.”

Beverly and Deanna both felt the subtle, yet definite tension that pervaded, even in the reception area of Starfleet Command. Beverly tilted her head a little to better hear Deanna’s muttered comment. “Something’s going on.”  
“Uh huh.” Beverly agreed as she tried to look around without being too obvious about it. “Think it’s anything to do with our men?”  
Deanna’s shrug was small. “Impossible to say for sure, but I’m not aware of anything else going on at present that could possibly be responsible to the tension I’m sensing at the moment.” She then grimaced slightly before adding with wry humour, “We haven’t been invaded or anything … have we?”

Beverly knew no reply was needed. She gave her best friend a sardonic smile and gestured towards two male officers who were striding purposefully towards them. “Heads up.” she murmured.  
The officer, a lieutenant JG came to a halt in front of the women and offered a perfunctory smile. “Doctor Picard? Counsellor Troi?”  
Both women answered in unison. “Yes.” He gestured to the ensign beside him. “This is Ensign Mathres. He will take the children to the creche.”  
Beverly smiled and ruffled James’ hair. He grinned up at his mother and said brightly, “I like the playing things here.” Beverly bent and kissed his brow and then unfastened Elly’s carry pouch. She then told the ensign, as she helped him put it on, “Elly’s been changed and has had some formula, but she’ll be wanting more soon. There’re a couple of bottles of my milk in the bag.”  
The reply was kind, yet quite dry. “Thank you, Doctor Picard.”  
The women watched as the young officer walked away, holding James by the hand his other hand cradling Elly through the pouch. Their thoughts were interrupted by the lieutenant. “Will you accompany me, please, sirs?” He gestured to a corridor that led off the main atrium. “This way.”

The walk was surprisingly lengthy. Beverly at first suspected they were being deliberately misdirected in order to maintain some semblance of seclusion, but as she saw they had not repeated any part of the journey she knew they really were being taken to somewhere quite far removed from the main command building.  
At last the officer offered a small nod and gestured to a modest anteroom. “If you would wait here, please, sirs? You’ll be seen shortly.”  
He departed before either woman could respond. “What the hell’s going on?” Beverly muttered as she sank into what turned out to be an amazingly comfortable chair.   
Deanna gave a sigh of approval when she too sat. “Not regular issue furniture, that’s for sure.” She quipped as they took in their surroundings. It was a nondescript room, and though sparsely furnished with only the two comfortable chairs and some potted plants, it was nonetheless welcoming in its own way. Somehow, the room had been imbued with someone’s personality and the overall effect was one of understated power without any overbearing attitude.  
There was little time to ponder this as the inner door suddenly opened and a slightly stooped, elderly female of undetermined species, smiled and beckoned them inside. Her skin had a yellowish tinge and appeared papery, and the doctor noticed there were only three fingers and what seemed to be a vestigial thumb on each hand. Her hair was sparse and only covered the crown of her head. It was a snowy white.

Beverly tried not to gape as she and Deanna entered their new surroundings. She was only partially successful.  
“Oh, my god.” Deanna blurted, though softly. What the friends saw was breathtaking. It was as if an exceptionally large arboretum had been created within … wherever they were. Beverly made a weak movement with her hand. “Is this a hologram?” she asked as she slowly pirouetted while looking up and gaping at the height of the tallest trees.  
The old woman chuckled softly. “No, I assure you everything you see is real.”  
“It’s wonderful.” Deanna sighed before breathing deeply. “It smells divine.”

Her comment made the old female laugh again. “There’s nothing divine about it, Counsellor.” She then made a sweeping gesture. “It’s taken a very long time … more than five generations of my people, to create this environment.” She smiled with obvious fondness and gave a nod. “My people have long known that in order to think with clarity and wisdom, one must be in synch with the natural world.”  
Beverly smiled and nodded her agreement. “It took a long time for humans to come to the same conclusion.”  
“Is this your natural environment?” Deanna asked as her eyes took in many plants identifiable as indigenous to Earth. The old female’s smile was forgiving. “I was born on this world, Counsellor, as were the three generations of my kin who preceded me. This …” she gestured to the surrounding plant life. “is as much my natural environment as it is yours, or Doctor Picard’s.” Her smile grew as she added, “Even given your mixed parentage, Counsellor.”  
Beverly tried to keep the accusation from her voice as she said, “You know a lot about us.”  
The old female gave an expansive shrug. “What do you want me to say?” She then sighed. “You have been summoned to Starfleet Command. Did you think your identities, your species, and histories, would be ignored? Of course, I’ve access to your complete service records, that is my right, according to my rank.”

“Which is?” Beverly snapped defiantly. “I note you wear no uniform.” She then shook her head angrily. “Or any sign of rank.”  
“Ah.” The tone of the reply carried regret. “I must apologise for that.” The elderly female gestured to her plain, olive-green tunic, trousers, and tan sandals. “I feel more connected to my environment without the trappings of my position.”  
She smiled and tilted her head. “But we don’t have to stand here. Please,” she gestured towards the dense foliage. “shall we?”  
The two friends followed the old female on an ill-defined path through the thick greenery, taking in the towering trees, the mid-growth, and the understory of a myriad of plants, many in bloom. They came to a little clearing where there was a large picnic table with some generously padded chairs.

The friends took their offered seats while the old female moved to one side and held back some fronds of a large fern. “Would you care for something?” she asked as she gestured to a replicator.  
After sharing a quick glance with Beverly, Deanna offered a nod. “A hot chocolate would be nice.” she said with a smile.  
Their host’s voice was soft as she placed the order. As she brought the steaming mug to the table, she arched a thin eyebrow at Beverly in silent query. The doctor gave a snort of defeat and said with a wry smile, “Chamomile tea, please.”  
The elderly female returned with two cups, one for Beverly and one for herself, although she didn’t elaborate on her choice of beverage. All three spent some quiet moments sipping, before the host sighed. “I believe you asked about my rank?”  
The friends nodded but said nothing.

The old woman sighed resignedly as she responded, “I hold a unique position in two especially important entities. I’m a member of Starfleet and as such I hold the rank of fleet admiral.”  
A soft gasp was heard from both listeners. “A fleet admiral?” Beverly repeated in shock. “But who are you? I have never heard of your existence … sir.” she added belatedly and apologetically.  
“I’m not surprised, Doctor Picard.” The response carried a note of forgiveness and yet wry dryness. “Not many are aware of me.”  
“You said you hold two positions, sir?” Deanna remined respectfully.  
“Yes.” The old female smiled kindly. “I’m also a member of the Federation Council.”

“That can’t be true.” Beverly said with disbelief, shaking her head. “That would be a clear conflict of interest, not to say illegal.”  
“Normally, yes, that would be correct.” This time the female’s smile was somewhat indulgent. “It was established long ago that the council and Starfleet must be separate from each other, as Starfleet carries out the decisions made and policies of the council.  
“However,” the female said firmly, “in recent times it’s become clear that the two institution must be connected.” The female shifted slightly in her seat and rearranged the folds of her tunic. “During the Dominion war we found there was far too much bureaucracy hampering the effectiveness of Starfleet, particularly of those in space actually doing the fighting.   
“Things had to change but change always comes slowly. Too slowly as it turned out. It was inevitable there’d be those in both camps who’d vehemently resist any move to integrate at any level, but as the death toll rose and the loss of ships and materiel became unstainable, those who had opposed the idea relented. Mind you,” the old female smiled coldly, “it wasn’t as if they had much choice.  
“Still, it was a difficult transition, and there were many on both sides left with a bitter taste in their mouths.”

She rose from her seat and began to slowly pace back and forth, her hands used to accentuate her speech. “It turned out to be a wise move, though. Far wiser than anyone could’ve predicted.”  
“The Borg.” Beverly said, barely able to hide the shudder of revulsion those words evoked.  
“Yes, Doctor, the Borg.” the old female shook her head ruefully. “But I don’t mention them for any other reason than in reference to their incursion in 2381. That, so soon after the Dominion war could have been a death knell for the Federation had it not been for the integration of the council and Starfleet.” She shrugged as she retook her seat. “And so here I am, a quiet achiever with a foot in each camp.”  
“A quiet achiever.” There was bitterness in Beverly’s tone. “Ok, so why are we here?”  
“Because of what’s occurring as we speak.” The female held up one gnarled hand, effectively silencing Beverly’s questions. “No doubt I will anger you by stating the obvious … that I cannot, nor will I provide details, however, as we speak there are things happening, that if successful, will have a profound effect on the Federation’s future.”  
“Good or bad?” Deanna asked.

“Good.” The female smiled widely. “Exceptionally good.” Then her expression became sombre. “And equally, exceptionally bad if it fails.” She stood again and began to pace.   
“We never foresaw the opportunity, it arose quite unexpectedly, nevertheless once it became obvious what we’d been … well, gifted, we had to act.” She sighed and made a vague gesture with her hand. “But although we had not foreseen this set of circumstances, that doesn’t mean we weren’t somewhat prepared for it. Because of that,” the smile returned, “we were in a position to assist those undertaking the necessary actions to achieve a positive outcome.”  
Beverly scowled and made a dismissive wave of her hand. “We already know this.”  
“Yes, I’m aware of that, Doctor.” There was an edge to the old female’s voice that caught Beverly’s attention.  
“So, what else can you tell us?” The doctor then sneered, “That you can tell us.” Beverly stressed, her belligerence making the question accusatory.  
There ensued several long seconds of stand-off with Beverly and the female staring at each other. It was Deanna who broke it. “Please, Admiral, what can you tell us?”

She allowed some more seconds to pass in silence before she slid her eyes to Deanna. “I can tell you that the first part of the action has been achieved. If all goes according to plan, there will be two more stages to be completed.” A smile made an appearance. “Those involved are uninjured and those overseeing the action are still undetected. So far, everything is proceeding as we’d hoped.”  
Where before, Beverly had been ready for a fight, she now stood and said quietly, “Jean-Luc and Will are all right?”  
“Yes.” The admiral’s smile grew warmer. “Both Captain Picard and Commander Riker are in good physical health.”  
Beverly’s smile was tentative and quickly vanished as wariness took hold. “Good physical health?”   
The admiral sighed with a little impatience. “I can only report on what can be attested to, Doctor. I’ve no doubt those undertaking the mission are under a great deal of stress but until they can be assessed by a mental health professional, I cannot speculate as to their mental wellbeing.”  
Beverly gave a grudging nod of acceptance and then asked, “You said there’re two more stages to that action?”  
“I did, yes.” The female’s reply was guarded.

Deanna laid a gentle hand on Beverly’s forearm and successfully calmed her friend. “And what are the chances our partners remain in good health through those stages?” she asked quietly.  
The admiral shrugged. “I cannot possibly answer that.” She then sighed as she pinched the bridge of her prominent, hooked nose. “All I can say is that the means to achieve that scenario are in place, but no one can predict the future. At best, we hope to achieve success in all stages. However, the reality is that there are far too many variables to cater for. This action will unfold as it will. All we can do is try to anticipate and assist or counter whatever occurs.”  
“And hope for the best.” Beverly murmured forlornly.  
“A little more than that, Doctor.” The old female smiled. “Although I cannot elaborate, rest assured we have the absolute best available tech and operatives assisting. And …” her smile grew, “those entrusted with the actual physical mission are the best, the most dependable, experienced, and brave officers. With all that in place, we have an exceptionally good chance of succeeding.

“So, we can’t help?” Beverly asked, the hope in her voice eliciting sympathy in the admiral.  
“Not really, Doctor.” She saw Beverly’s expression cloud in sadness and worry and felt motivated to alleviate the pain.  
“However,” she held up a hand to temper her reply. “I would not object to you and,” she gestured with a smile to Deanna, “Counsellor Troi having more … immediate … access to the current situation, notwithstanding limitations due to security.”  
Before Beverly could respond, Deanna again laid her hand on her friend’s forearm. “That would be exceptionally helpful, Admiral. Thank you.”  
The doctor easily caught Deann’s respectful and grateful tone and adopted the same mien. “Yes, Admiral. Thank you, that would be greatly appreciated.”

The old female’s warm smile slipped slightly as she added, “It does mean you’ll have to choose another domicile,” she quickly held up a hand as she clarified, however, one that has a secure comm system?”  
Deanna smiled wryly and raised an eyebrow. “And can we assume you have somewhere in mind, sir?”  
The answering smile was wide and warm. “Indeed, I do.” she responded before quickly adding, “And it’s child-friendly.”  
That made Beverly grin and shake her head. “Why am I not surprised?”


	11. Chapter 11

The Tholian stared at the monitor, a deep frown creasing his otherwise smooth brow. His ship was now close enough to detect Rurke’s vessel and, although at the extreme limit if his ship’s sensors, the Tholian was wondering if his suspicions of another ship near Rurke’s might not be unfounded. With that thought uppermost in his mind, the Tholian slowed his ship’s approach and altered course. He would treat this like a stalking exercise. Rurke’s ship was now the prey and the Tholian meant to take it.

The junior officer suddenly stiffened, causing its superior to turn its head quickly and say sharply, “What is it?”  
The subordinate pointed a gloved hand at the screen embedded in the console. “It’s the Tholian, sir. He’s altered speed and course.”  
Making a flicking gesture with a gloved hand, the ranking officer barked. “Put in on the main viewer.” As that was done, the officer added, “Show the previous flight path and the new approach vector.”  
As both officers studied the displayed information, the older officer muttered, “He’s become skittish. I’d say his ship’s sensors have only just picked up the broker’s ship. That would explain the sudden alteration in course and speed.”  
“Yes, I’d have to agree with that, sir.” The younger officer replied. “But doesn’t this…” it gestured to the main viewer, “mean that he knows we’re here? I’m not suggesting he has actually detected our presence, but he may have intel we’re unaware of that’s given him cause for concern.”

“Hmm, yes, that’s a possibility, I suppose, but it’s more likely he’s just being cautious. Being who he is, wariness would be hard-wired into him. I seriously doubt he’d make a direct approach to anything in any situation.” The senior officer nodded and glanced at a small screen to its left. “I see the pilot’s engaged the cloak.”  
“Yes, sir. The transfer has taken place and the withdrawal should commence within moments.”  
“Excellent. I think it’s time we baited our trap. Send the appropriate information and make sure that the readouts show the proper location. The Tholian will know where, on the broker’s ship, he and Lannit Yan are. If our virtual effigies appear anywhere else, I doubt we’ll see the Tholian. He’ll abort and be gone in the blink of an eye.”  
“Yes, sir.”

There followed a few seconds as the junior officer inputted the relevant commands. It then sat back and gave its superior a nod, and a small smile could be seen through its faceplate. “Virtual effigies sent, sir. Even with the Tholian’s high-grade tech, he won’t know that what’s being shown on his monitors is a lie. That’s something he’ll discover when he boards Rurke’s ship.”  
“We hope.” The elder being corrected and then sighed. “Confidence is one thing. Overconfidence, however, can be fatal, just as underestimating your adversary can be. The Tholian has been at the top of his particular trade for an exceptionally long time … and he’s still there for a very good reason.”

The junior officer bowed its head. “Understood, sir.” After checking the monitor again, the younger being added, “The pilot’s ship is now completely cloaked and has withdrawn, sir.”  
“Thank you.” The reply made the junior officer’s eyes widen. The superior was rarely, if ever, polite. “Good.” The older being grumbled, returning to its usual gruff demeanor. “Now we wait.”

The pilot had ignored Will three times as the acting captain threw his questions. It wasn’t until Jean-Luc barked, “You will answer my first officer!” that the pilot sighed theatrically and only just managed to stop the eye roll that threatened. It turned and gave an obviously irritated scowl. That facial expression was easy to read.  
“Fine.” It spat and sent a glare at Will. Holding up a three-fingered hand, it extended one digit. “One. You asked if those held on this ship are in a totally secured facility. Yes, they are. Two.” It held up the second finger. “You asked if either or both of you will have the opportunity to question the captives. “Yes, however, that will only be with strict conditions.” Will opened his mouth to speak, but the pilot shook its head and tapped the third finger. “And three. You asked where we will be taking the prisoners. You don’t need to know that and I’m not authorised to tell you anyway.”

“Unacceptable.” Will growled. He would’ve said more but the pilot interrupted. “Be that as it many, sir, nevertheless, that is how it will be.”  
Jean-Luc stepped forward and gathered his considerable captain’s persona around him. “As Acting Captain Riker stated, that is unacceptable. We have successfully captured two wanted felons and, in the process, put our lives on the line. And, not to state the obvious, but I have been used as bait to achieve that outcome. I think we more than deserve to know where the captives are to be taken.”   
The pilot opened its mouth to speak, but this time it found itself cut off by the increasingly angry captain. “And as for interrogating the prisoners, you can shove your conditions up your arse.”  
It was said quietly, almost matter of fact, yet the pilot had no doubt that, should it attempt to deny the human’s intentions, physical harm may well ensue. Its anus tightened reflexively.  
Having given urgent consideration of the situation, the pilot decided discretion was indeed the better part of valour. Besides, it was just a player in the unfolding drama. It had no more control over events than the two humans standing before it. All their strings were in the hands of the puppet masters.

Adopting a more submissive demeanour, the pilot offered an apologetic, shallow bow and clasped its hands near its chest. “Of course, Captain Picard, I meant no offence. It is only natural that you and…” It gestured respectfully to Will, “and Acting Captain Riker, wish to – ahem – interview the captives.” A perfunctory smile made an appearance before vanishing. “And I’m sure the …” a quiet cough was heard, “advice I offer will be viewed in the spirit in which it is given…”  
Jean-Luc arched one eyebrow. “Advice?” he queried with quiet menace.  
“Oh, nothing too draconian, I assure you.” The pilot’s insincere smile made another brief appearance. “But it would be best if you’d consider following a few simple guidelines?”  
Jean-Luc allowed a few heavy seconds to pass before giving Will a long look, tacitly seeking his approval. The younger man appreciated the gesture, the silent acknowledgement that the mission was still Will’s to command.  
“Well,” Will said, “it depends on the advice.” Before Haf could respond, Will added, “But if these guidelines are not too restrictive, then yes, we’ll abide by them.”

“Excellent!” The pilot exclaimed exuberantly. “I will explain. The prisoners are in separate holding cells, out of earshot of each other. The force fields that confine them may not be deactivated under any circumstances. Both captives are naked and will remain so. Also, both have undergone a deep body scan to ensure there are no hidden devices, organic or otherwise.”   
Another smile made a brief appearance, though this time there was some warmth in it. “And lastly, gentlemen,” This time it was Jean-Luc the pilot addressed, “please refrain from reacting to any … provocation. I’ve no doubt that both Rurke and Lannit Yan will seek to trigger you. Don’t let them.”

By the cold, steely look Jean-Luc sent, the pilot understood that although the older human accepted the warning, it was, nevertheless, unwelcome. However, even under the burden of deep emotional turmoil, Jean-Luc’s ingrained sense of duty shone through.  
“I understand.” he muttered quietly. He then turned to Will and took a cleansing breath. “I would like to shower, shave and present myself in uniform, Number One. I hope that meets with your approval?”  
“Yes, Captain, of course.” Will smiled kindly. “As a matter of fact, I could do with a shower and a tidy up too. How about we meet back here, on the bridge in say, half an hour?”  
Offering a nod, Jean-Luc raised a small smile. “Agreed.” He turned to leave and then hesitated and turned back. “And thank you, Will.”  
The younger man smiled as inside his heart clenched in sympathy. He knew his captain was preparing himself for facing both Rurke and Lannit Yan. By presenting himself clean, shaved and in uniform, he was donning a kind of armour, a shield behind which he hoped to gain protection and which, he hoped, would hide his fear. Will pitied and admired his friend and captain in equal measures.

On the hidden ship, the older officer offered a soft chuckle. “He’s coming closer.”  
The junior officer nodded. “Yes, sir. And behaving like the predator he is.”  
“Indeed. His approach is textbook stalking behaviour. It is easy to imagine an image of a predatory animal stalking an oblivious prey. It’s like something out of a nature-in-the-wild vid.”  
“Do you think he’ll make his move quickly, or lurk to ensure his … privacy?”  
There was a lengthy silence before the superior officer sighed with frustration. “That I cannot say. As I’ve said previously, the Tholian has endured as long as he has because he’s cautious. All we can hope is that our ruse works as we hope.”  
The junior officer nodded pensively. “Yes, and we know that our best, our finest minds have engineered this.”

“Of course, but we can’t assume that our best minds are better than whatever he can access. That would be the ultimate hubristic conceit.”  
“Yes, sir. But I have complete faith in our people. To doubt their expertise would be to doubt our activities in relation to this mission.”  
The cold look the superior officer sent spoke volumes. “We don’t have the luxury of doubt. Our job, our purpose is to obey those who know better. Who know what we do not.”  
Chagrined, the junior officer offered a shallow bow. “Of course, sir.”  
The alien captain turned its attention back to the monitors and the image of the Tholian’s approaching ship. “Come on,” it murmured, “there’s nothing to fear, your prey hasn’t seen you.”

Beverly’s gaze was distant as she watched James playing in the park, her mind light years away. Elly had been fed and changed and was happily amusing herself on a padded mat, laid on the grass. The two friends had opted to spend some time in the late afternoon sunshine to dissect what the fleet admiral had told them. Deanna chose an oblique way to bring the doctor back to the present. “Elly’s sitting up well now.”  
Beverly started and shifted her focus, quickly gathering her thoughts. Yes,” she replied, her expression souring. “Yet another milestone Jean-Luc’s missed.”  
Deanna sighed and then shrugged. “That’s only relevant if you make it.”  
The incredulous look Beverly gave showed her disbelief and anger. “Only relevant if I make it?” She scowled and gestured to both children. “So, tell me, Deanna. Where do you want me to start with the kids’ milestones he’s missed?”  
“That’s not fair, Beverly.”

Deanna would have said more, but the doctor held up a hand, effectively silencing her. “I know.” she admitted quietly. “But right now, I want a head to kick, and as I can’t kick the fleet admiral’s head, it has to be Jean-Luc’s.”  
A soft chuckle preceded Deanna commenting, “Well, at least no physical harm ensues.” She sobered then and sighed. “It was good to find out the best the Federation and Starfleet can offer is assisting.”  
“Yes.” Beverly sighed, before sending James a wave as he negotiated a small slide. “And we can only hope that our best is equal, or better than those our partners are facing.”  
“I think that the very fact a fleet admiral, one who’s so under the radar, chose to involve us is a good sign, Beverly. I can’t help but view that in a positive light. They have far too much to lose by alienating us. Like that commander said, we’ve both got a lot of friends in Starfleet.”

Beverly’s tone was bitter as she replied, “So you’re saying the only reason we’ve been taken into the fold is to placate us? Just in case the mission goes tits up and we start making a noise about it?”  
“No.” Deanna replied coolly. “What I’m saying is that I think they view the mission favourably, that they think it’s going to succeed.”   
Beverly was going to add waspishly that a successful outcome may not include the survival of those who achieved it. However, she decided it was moot. Deanna was just as aware … and worried … about the situation as she was. “Ok,” the doctor sighed as she conceded. “You’ve got a point.”

The women watched James for a while before Beverly stood and stretched. “If what the fleet admiral said was true, we might know more soon. How about we head back to our new digs and settle in for the night?”  
Deanna stood and smiled as she watched her friend scoop up her daughter, and give her a hug and a kiss. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Our luggage should’ve been transferred by now.”  
With James holding his mother’s hand and Elly safely nestled in her carry pouch, the little group packed up and left the park.

The Tholian had brought his craft to a halt. The vessel hung motionlessly in the cold, black void of space as he stared at the monitor in front of him. Rurke’s ship was just as still … seemingly presenting no threat and yet the Tholian could not shed the feeling of disquiet that nagged him. Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t determine what it was that felt so wrong … so out of place.  
With an irritated snort, he ran the scans again and received exactly the same result as the three pervious scans. Both of his employees were where they should be. In his mind’s eye the Tholian saw the hidden room with its array of torture devices and the table. Thinking of that apparatus brought a cold smile and, surprisingly, a shudder. 

Rurke had designed it and had sourced a discreet builder to create it, all the Tholian had done is provide the funds. And the adaptive piece of furniture had paid for itself many times over. But the memories he possessed of the screams of agony, the pleading for mercy, the pitiful begging of those unfortunate enough to find themselves fixed to it … he shuddered again and then gave himself an admonishing shake of his head.   
“You must be getting old,” he muttered sourly. “having any pity for those who have wronged me in some way is pointless. If they’d been innocent, they would never have found themselves in Rurke’s hands.”  
He gave himself a mental shake and refocused his attention on the problem at hand. He narrowed his eyes as he peered at the monitor screen. “I’ve never ignored my gut instincts before, and I don’t intend to do so now.” Having come to his decision, he pushed his chair back and ordered the ship’s computer to prime the vessel’s engines for a massive acceleration.

On the hidden ship the senior officer, who had been studying the same readouts as his junior officer, stood abruptly, and barked, “He’s going to jump! Disable his propulsion systems!”  
The younger being was already arming their weapons before the ship’s commander had spoken. Seemingly out of nowhere, four iridescent blue beams shot out of the inky darkness of space and impacted with devastating force on the Tholian’s ship. Because it had occurred just as the vessel was about to jump to slipspace, the damage was far worse than had been intended.  
Both officers on the hidden ship spoke at the same time.  
“His propulsion system has become irreparably unstable!”  
“Get him off that ship!”

The senior officer’s command cut through the frantic thought processes of the subordinate being. Its fingers danced across the console automatically, even as the order had been given. The blast shield of the hidden ship activated instantly to protect it from the concussive shock wave and following debris of the suddenly obliterated ship.  
Seconds after the hidden ship had ceased shaking, the leading officer said with quiet disbelief, “Did we get him in time?”  
The junior officer turned slowly, and its smile spoke volumes. “Yes, sir. He’s being held in stasis on the transporter pad.  
“He can’t move? He can’t activate any device, any weapon … any type of self-termination trigger?”  
“No, sir, he cannot.”  
The leader regained its seat and offered a savage smile. “Good. Got you, you bastard.”

The security team member watched the approaching person with narrowed eyes, employing a practiced scrutiny. She had been part of her team for five years now and had become comfortable and confident with both the team and her place in it.  
She could afford a slightly less than razor-sharp vigilance, as the person, walking with a calm, yet focused step, had to have gone through three security checkpoints to get this far. Their credentials, ID and reason for visiting would’ve been thoroughly vetted and any doubt, even the slightest hint of suspicion would have had the individual immediately escorted from the building.   
The officer also knew that there was only one way into this floor and wing of the facility. All others had been sealed off and were well guarded. As a further security measure, there was a dampening field enclosing the entire floor, preventing anyone transporting in. 

The security officer straightened her already ramrod stiff spine, tucked in her chin, and softly cleared her throat, ready to ask the standard, and no doubt superfluous, identity questions.  
She never got the chance; the words didn’t leave her mouth. Instead she gaped momentarily, a look of shock and surprise quickly fading as her well-toned and usually solid body slowly crumpled to the floor. The neat hole in the middle of her forehead leaked no blood or brain matter even though the injury went right through her head, leaving a small dark smudge on the wall. The killing beam had cauterised the wound exceptionally well.   
The being cast a dispassionate glance at the body as he stepped around it. His mind was already shifting to the next step in the mission. The layout of the room had been memorised and he was confident his target would be lying in bed, just as the staff member had admitted under torture to him only 30 minutes previously, and just as he’d also been assured that the target’s boyfriend was out of the room procuring some food.  
He knew that that body would be found, eventually. Someone was bound to open the utility cupboard once the alarm was sounded. Way too late, of course. 

With the extra meds in her system, the assassin felt confident his target would give no trouble. He smiled grimly as he felt sure she’d never know what hit her.  
He didn’t bother to knock, there was no need to pretend he was a staff member. The door eased open to his gentle push and he entered the room with arrogance born of well-earned self-confidence.   
The weapon in his left hand was still warm from its recent use. He glanced at it as he raised his hand, yet again admiring its elegant form. For something so deadly, it had a beauty that never ceased to amaze and inspire him. “It’s a pity she’ll never know that her death was caused by something so utterly gorgeous.” He thought silently. His thumb caressed the firing button in an almost sensuous way as he indulged in drawing out the moment.   
Katya Kurnov’s death would make him very wealthy indeed, although he was acutely aware of the care he’d have to take in ensuring he lived to enjoy it. The man who’d hired him was utterly ruthless and very well connected.   
He was nodding to himself when he caught a tiny movement in his peripheral vision to his right. He flinched and ducked, quickly turning to face whatever it was he’d seen. As his eyes perceived the stuffed toy, his mind offered up the obvious question. Why is that on the floor? The incongruous query wasn’t answered as, from his left, a crystal glass vase impacted with serious force under his ear and exploded in a pretty display of chunky bits and pieces, each bit casting lovely prismatic light from the sunlight streaming in through the window. 

Tom stood open-mouthed, staring at the unconscious being, sprawled on the floor, a growing stain of urine darkening the would-be assassin’s light grey trousers.   
A sleepy-eyed Katya sat up in her bed, pushing absently at her untidy hair. “What the fuck?” she murmured. Her eyes slipped slowly from Tom to the male on the floor of her room. Her tongue appeared to wet her lips before she asked, “Tom? Tom, what’s happening?”  
Her voice broke through Tom’s torpor. He blinked once and shut his mouth. He then took a deep, shaky breath. “I was going to get something to eat, but before I went, I thought I’d…” He took another deep breath to steady himself. “I was coming out of the bathroom … I’d got rid of the old flowers and washed the vase, and he…” Tom pointed at the man, “just walked in, as bold as brass.”  
Tom, trembling and dry mouthed, went to Katya and sat on her bed, his nose wrinkling as he smelled the man’s urine. “I thought he was a staff member, you know, maybe admin?” He gestured to the man again. “No uniform, you know?”  
Katya nodded her reply, trying to keep up. “But then,” Tom continued, “he raised his hand and I saw that thing.” Tom pointed to the weapon, now lying on the floor under the window.  
“Get it.” Katya blurted.

“What?” Tom was confused. “Get what?”  
Katya’s reply was vehement. “The fucking weapon!”  
“Oh!” Tom exclaimed, getting off the bed. “Oh, yes, of course.”  
Katya shook her head and then rubbed her face with her hands. “I’ve got to focus.” she muttered. After taking a deep breath she allowed her, albeit brief, Starfleet training to surface. “Ok. So hit the alert button.”  
Tom, now standing and staring with dread at the weapon, sitting uncomfortably in his hand, cast a look at his friend and saw her pointing to a large red button on the wall. He walked stiffly, still in shock, and hit it. A small red light began strobing above Katya’s bed and both occupants heard the distant sound of an alarm.   
“Is that us?” Tom asked.

“I suppose.” Katya replied and then pointed to the unconscious man. “Is he dead?”  
Tom’s shrug spoke volumes. “I … I … ah … don’t know.”  
“Check him.” Katya’s eyes had cleared. She was shaking off the sedation, although she understood her clarity was momentary. “If he’s got a pulse, tie his hands and feet.”  
The reply was tentative. “Ok.” Tom said as he laid the weapon on the bed somewhat gingerly and didn’t see Katya snatch it up. He approached the man and pressed his fingers against his neck. A frown developed as he reported, “There’s a carotid pulse, but it’s not very strong.”  
“Doesn’t matter.” Katya growled. “Tie the fucker up.”  
The door suddenly opened, and two nurses entered, accompanied by a security team member. Katya raised the weapon but saw that a Starfleet weapon was trained on her head. She opened her hand and let the weapon drop to the bed, and then raised her hands. She said nothing. Tom too stood and raised his hands, while awkwardly pointing at the assassin.  
“He came to kill Katya.”

The security team member moved quickly, scooping up the weapon and covering everyone in the room. With a curt nod to the nurses, he indicated they could proceed with their tasks.  
“I’m ok.” Katya muttered to the nurse as she was scanned while the other nurse scanned the man on the floor. “Serious cranial injury,” she reported, “possible brain trauma. We need to get him to emergency care immediately.”  
The security team member shook his head. “Nope.” he said emphatically. “No one leaves this room until we authorise it.”  
“But…” the nurse kneeling beside the now snoring man protested. “his life is in danger.”  
“Too bad.” was her reply. “He got in, there may be others. Until we know any different, we all stay right where we are.”  
The nurses looked at each other and the one beside the bed shrugged. “Not our call.” he muttered. The kneeling nurse and stood before casting a regretful look at the unconscious male. “I hope he makes it, then.”  
From the bed Katya said softly, “I don’t.”

Jean-Luc Picard made a conscious effort to appear unruffled. He stood, Will Riker by his side, as he gazed dispassionately at the naked male lying on the cold, metal bed at the back of the cell. A long, tense silence ensued, the grim battle of wills broken when Will said, “You’re in a lot of trouble.”  
Rising with assured grace, Rurke gained his feet and stared at the two humans, his expression slightly mocking. “A lot of trouble?” he asked, a smirk lurking. “For what?”  
Outrage welled quickly in Jean-Luc and it was a struggle to contain it. He succeeded, but it cost him dearly. “You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong?” he asked mildly.

Rurke shrugged. “Not really, no.” Before the Starfleet officers could respond, Rurke added, “I was hired to do a job. I did it. If you have any objection to that then I respectfully suggest you talk to my employer.”   
Will frowned and ran his hand through his beard, seeming to give considered thought to the declaration. “So,” he began quietly, “you’re contending that because you were employed to carry out crimes, then the blame must lie with whoever employed you, not you personally, the one who actually perpetrated the crimes?”

“Yes.” Rurke smiled with disarming charm. “That’s it exactly. If I’d not been employed, then I couldn’t, I wouldn’t have carried out any …” His smile widened and he stared directly at Jean-Luc, “infractions of the law.”  
Jean-Luc’s voice rose in anger as he said incredulously, “Infractions? What happened to my family … to ensign Kurnov…” his voice softened as he added, “to me… were not mere infractions…”  
Rurke shrugged again and opened his hands, seeming to plead. “I didn’t do anything to you, your family or Ensign Kurnov, Captain Picard. Either speak to my employer or speak to Lannit Yan.”  
“You had my…” Jean-Luc blurted but then caught himself and swallowed dryly. He continued far more calmly, “You were in possession of biological material that didn’t belong to you … that was … stolen from the owner.”  
Rurke glanced quickly at Will and saw his confusion. He grinned inwardly. “Your biological samples, Captain?” he asked with quiet triumph. “You mean all that semen of yours I had?”  
Jean-Luc blanched and gave a nod, though he didn’t mean to. “Yes.” he replied shakily. “Twenth … he … he …”

“Ah, Twenth.” Rurke said sympathetically. “A very disordered being.” Rurke sighed and shrugged yet again. “But you see? I did nothing. Twenth assaulted you, Captain, not I.”  
“But…” Jean-Luc began, but quickly trickled into silence. Will saw what was happening and stepped up to help. “Denial of culpability isn’t a defence, Rurke.” he said coldly. “You’re up to your neck in these crimes and you know it. I’d be in your best interests to admit what you’ve done and help us to gather the evidence to lay charges against those others who’re even more guilty. Who knows?” he smiled coldly. “You might get a reduction in sentence for your help.”  
Rurke held Will’s gaze for a few long seconds before smiling indulgently. “There will be no sentence, Commander,” he sighed. “I’m but a bit player, a low-level minion. Speak to my employer or Lannit Yan. You’ll find much more fertile ground for bargaining with them.”

Will, disgusted, turned to leave before realising his captain hadn’t moved to follow him. He quickly assessed the scene and understood the older man was momentarily incapable of movement. Easing his hand gently to take Jean-Luc’s upper arm, Will muttered softly, “Come on, Captain. He’s not worth your time.”  
As the officers left the room, Rurke’s mocking voice was heard. “There was profit to made, Captain Picard. That always brings the ruthless to the fore. What does Twenth have to say? Did he enjoy obtaining your semen? Did you enjoy being milked?”  
The door closed on the taunts and a worried Will looked at his now pale and shaking captain. “Sir?” he asked solicitously. “Captain, are you all right?”  
There was a long silence before Jean-Luc shook his head and whispered, “No … no, Number One, I don’t think I am.”

As they were about to interrogate Lannit Yan, Will had to know what he was dealing with. “Captain,” he asked gently, “what was Rurke talking about? Did he have possession of some semen samples of yours?”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes closed in embarrassment and pain. His nod was reluctantly given. Will waited patiently and was rewarded when Jean-Luc said softly, “I was sexually assaulted multiple times … Twenth administered drugs to make me more … productive, more fertile. He collected multiple ejaculations from me by orally raping me.”  
“Oh, Christ.” Will muttered darkly. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Ok, so they had something in mind. Do you know what it was?”  
Jean-Luc’s look was icy. “You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t worked it out?”

Will took a deep breath and swallowed his anger. “Yes, sir, I think I have, but I have to hear it from you. You’re the victim. These are your allegations to make.”  
Again Jean-Luc closed his eyes whilst trying to gather his control. “It’s my belief,” he began softly, “that there was an effort under way to use my stolen … biological matter… to impregnate females, the sole purpose of which to sell the resulting offspring. With me and my … reputation … as a selling point, a ready market would likely be ensured.”  
Will managed to hide his disgust. “And this is additional to your abduction, and that of your family and ensign Kurnov?”

“Yes. I don’t know if this was intended from the beginning, or if it was something that evolved as the abductors attempted to auction us all off. Both Beverly and ensign Kurnov were carrying multiple pregnancies due to my coerced rapes of them. However, Twenth assaulted me multiple times with the explicit motive to use my semen to impregnate other, presumably unwilling genetically compatible females.”  
“So,” Will muttered, speaking his thoughts aloud, “if that’s the case, then there must be some abducted females somewhere.” A thought occurred but Will hesitated before he asked gently, “Captain, how did Rurke know about this? As far as we knew, he was on the periphery. I mean, yes, Lannit Yan was on Rurke’s ship, but it obviously wasn’t Yan’s choice to be there. He was being tortured.”  
Jean-Luc sighed tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You recall when we intercepted Rurke’s ship? During his incursion into restricted space?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“A biological sample was detected.”

Will’s expression showed his shock, then his anger. “You knew!” he spat hotly. “You knew damned well that the scan had picked up your biological fluid!” He glowered and shook his head. “And that’s why you were so insistent about getting on to Rurke’s ship.”  
Jean-Luc looked into his exec’s hurt and angry eyes and replied softly, “I’m sorry, Will. Yes, I knew. I had to destroy it.”  
“And did you?’  
“Yes.”  
It took a moment or two for Will to compose himself. When he spoke, his voice was flat. “Ok, I can understand that. So…” he gave a short sigh, “it’s pretty certain that either Rurke or Yan have been sourcing compatible breeders. We can use that.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose in thought. “My guess is that would be Lannit Yan’s work. Rurke’s an enforcer, and…” he added after some thought, “a broker. Procuring breeding females is out of his purview. It must be Yan and I’d wager he’s attempting a side venture, and that’s why he was in Rurke’s hands. Perhaps their employer is unhappy.”

“Unhappy.” Will’s cheeks swelled as he puffed out a breath. “If true, that would be an understatement.”  
“Indeed.” Jean-Luc nodded, slowly regaining his equilibrium. “And if that’s the case, it gives us vital leverage.”  
Will’s grin was wolfish and uncharacteristically cold. “Then let’s see what it can shake loose.”  
Somehow Jean-Luc summoned a wan smile. “Make it so, Number One.” 

Lannit Yan had been pacing restlessly. He was trying to convince himself that there was a way out of his current predicament, but as he developed each new and ever more elaborate strategy, he quickly rejected it.  
He didn’t hear the soft footfalls of the approaching interrogators and he startled when he heard Jean-Luc say quietly, but firmly, “Lannit Yan? I believe I have some issues to discuss with you.”  
Yan recovered far more quickly than even he expected. Seeing this average sized, seemingly harmless human standing before him gave his confidence a much-needed boost.  
“Ah!” Yan exclaimed smugly. “Captain Picard.” He walked closer to the forcefield, so close it made it hum loudly. “How are you, Captain? How are the pregnancies progressing? You’ll have lots of little Picards soon enough, I’d imagine.”  
Will saw his friend blanch and chose to shut the prisoner down. “Shut up, Yan. We ask the questions here.”

Lannit Yan shrugged and moved back, allowing the forcefield to stop humming. Will took a steadying breath and ordered his thoughts. “You, Lannit Yan, in concert with an individual known as, Twenth, engineered not only the destruction of Haven’s culture and social cohesion, but you also orchestrated the abduction of Captain Picard, his family and their assistant, ensign Katya Kurnov.”  
Before Will could continue, Lannit Yan shouted, “I engineered nothing! I orchestrated nothing! It was all Twenth, I was forced to go along with his ideas, I had no choice.”  
Jean-Luc’s voice was remarkably calm as he interjected, “You’re lying, Lannit Yan. I was there, I remember very clearly who was in control.” His smile was chilly as he added, “And the Haven authorities have provided proof of your murderous activities. The trail of bodies, your poor, innocent victims, leads directly to you. Yes,” Jean-Luc conceded, “Twenth murdered his fair share, but you, Lannit Yan, you reveled in your depravity. You left behind ample evidence of your perversions.”  
“Perversions?” Yan sneered. “I didn’t see you complaining when you repeatedly fucked your wife and your assistant.” He emphasied the word and leered provocatively. Somehow Jean-Luc resisted the urge to rise to the bait.   
“Nevertheless,” he managed to smile. “I’m certain beyond doubt that you are the one mainly responsible for what happed to me, my family, ensign Kurnov and the people of Haven. You, Lannit Yan, have a lot to answer for.”  
“Have you had your tattoo removed?”

The question was unexpected, and Jean-Luc faltered. “What?” he gasped, struggling for firmer ground.  
“Your tattoo.” Lannit Yan leered. “You seemed to enjoy Twenth’s artistry. I especially recall how you seemed to like it when he tattooed the head of your cock.”  
Will immediately moved to redirect the conversation. “Have you abducted some females for breeding, Lannit Yan?”  
The prisoner’s eyes dwelled on Jean-Luc for some long seconds before sliding to Will. “Females for breeding?” he shrugged. “I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”  
Will smiled indulgently. “Of course, you don’t.” He allowed a short silence before continuing, “But we know that what Twenth did to Captain Picard was with the intention to use the results of the sexual assaults to impregnate probably unwilling genetically compatible females and then gestate and to sell those results, the eventually born infants, to the highest bidder.”  
Again, Lannit Yan shrugged. “I couldn’t say.” he pursed his thin lips. “That was all Twenth’s doing. I just followed his directions.”  
“That is a lie!” Jean-Luc shouted. “You were responsible for all that befell us, you were behind everything that happened to us … to Haven…”  
Yan smiled coldly. “No, not me.” he smiled. “Twenth.”

Will laid a comforting hand on his CO’s shoulder. He gave Yan a long, cold look and then said, “You can protest as much as you like, Yan. The evidence will tell its own story. You’re fucked.”  
Lannit Yan grinned coldly. “Fucked, you say? What an interesting turn of phrase,” he chuckled derisively. “maybe you should ask your captain about that. He knows more about those matters than me.”  
Jean-Luc’s mouth gaped as outraged words tumbled though his mind. But before he could express any, Will laid a gently retraining hand on his forearm. “You can deflect all you want, Yan. We have the evidence of your crimes from multiple sources. Good luck trying to wriggle out of what’s coming.”  
As Will began to guide his CO from the room, Jean-Luc halted and stared at his nemesis. “You will pay for what you’ve done, Lannit Yan.” he said with quiet, yet deadly certainty. “I will make sure of it.”  
The prisoner had no comment to make to that statement. The cold, resolute look in his former victim’s face said more than the words he used. Lannit Yan finally understood just how serious his predicament was and, for the first time, began to think of how to divulge Rurke’s and the employer’s involvement, while still protecting his life.  
Seeing the two humans leaving the room, he blurted, “Wait.”

Will turned first followed a few seconds later by Jean-Luc. “What?” Will asked with bland disinterest.  
“I know things.” Lannit blustered, before adopting an obsequious attitude. “I can tell you things, things you don’t know.”  
Will made a show of deferring to his captain. “What do you think, sir?”  
Having scrabbled to regain his control, at first all Jean-Luc did was nod. But as he quickly regathered his thoughts, he summoned a cold smile and sought to take the time to hurriedly regroup. “I don’t know, Number One.” He tried to sound disinterested. “Do you think it’s worth our time?”  
“I’ll make it worth your time!” Lannit shouted, panic and desperation suddenly colouring his voice. “I can tell you everything, fill in the blanks I know you possess.”

The captain turned to his exec; one eyebrow arched. “We have blanks?”  
Will turned his mouth down and shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of, Captain.”  
Lannit almost screamed his response. “You have blanks! You don’t know all the details!”  
Jean-Luc clasped his hands behind his back and adopted a mildly confused expression. “The details?” he remarked with quiet menace. “What details would that be, Lannit Yan? Details of what, precisely?”  
The time had come, there was no more room to manoeuvre. Lannit Yan had to confess all, if for no other reason than to save his own skin. Whether he succeeded remained to be seen. It would depend on how well Starfleet and the Federation could protect him. And crucially, for how long. 

The head of the local security detail frowned as he turned the small, innocuous looking device over in his hands. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” he muttered, before casting a quick glance at the silent, brooding being standing before him. “And you say he used this to simply move through the walls of the building? Right through the dampening field? And completely undetected?”  
“So, it would seem.” The reply was soft. The being then gestured to the device. “It is not just you who is puzzled by that thing. So far, it’s stymied the staff of the regional Starfleet tech unit too. Someone from Command is arriving soon to take it back to the high-tech facility in Brisbane.”  
“Huh.” the security head replied, shaking his head. “Well, they’re welcome to it. But I have to say, if we … or they, are dealing with someone who can lay their hands on something like this…” he gently hefted the device, “then I’d say we’d better beef things up around here.”

“Indeed.” The being agreed. “The weapon used to kill your team member is under scrutiny as well. It too appears to be a step above … a large step above anything that we know of.”  
“The intended victim … Ms. Kurnov? Somebody wants her dead, real bad.”  
“Yes.” The being sighed while shaking its head. “And if that …” it gestured to the device, “is what is available, that level of tech, then I really can’t see how anyone is going to prevent it.”  
“Yeah.” The security head said sadly.  
“Have you spoken to her … since …”  
“No.” the older man sighed and scratched idly at the hair on his neck. “I thought I’d speak to her friend, Tom Chalmers? She’s been sedated and there’s this whole other business with the assault… It’s a mess.”  
“Hmm, yes, I’d not considered that.”

The security head gave the being a long look and asked, “What is it you do, exactly? Are you Starfleet?”  
The being smiled enigmatically. “In a way, yes, but I’m more of a liaison person … a facilitator. It has been found that different departments,” it waved a hand between them, “work best when there is a smooth transit of information and action.”  
It sighed and added, “Too many times those who head their departments become entrenched and begin to act as if they’re running their own fiefdom. Someone like me,” it smiled in a self-depreciating way, “someone who is out of their sphere of influence, someone without a vested self-interest, can, more often than not, get things done with a minimum of fuss and thereby greatly speed up the sharing of information and action.”   
The listener raised one eyebrow in silent, slightly offended query. The being was quick to clarify its explanations. “I was referring to the higher ranked department heads, those who sit at the top of the command tree. I’m well aware of the great work lower ranked department heads like you achieve, and often under difficult circumstances.”  
The man’s grunt was soft but accepting. “Yes, well,” he muttered, once again giving the device a leery look. “Better you than me.” he said as he handed it to the being. “Good luck trying to figure it out.”  
“Thank you.” The being replied graciously before leaving.

The Tholian knew he was trapped. Yet that knowledge didn’t provide any solution to the problem he now faced. Somehow, and he was determined to find out how, someone had betrayed him.  
He could move his eyes a little, enough to see, wishing he could squint to lessen the glare, that he was suspended, naked and helpless, in an energy beam. By its pale blue tint and the gentle prickling over his entire body, he correctly identified what kind of beam it was and, more importantly, who it belonged to.  
“Federation.” The word was said silently, at first angrily but then, with a note of curiosity. “Federation? Interesting,” he mused, “that could mean many things, yet I feel I know where my betrayer lies.” His following thought was bitter. “Safely nestled in the Federation’s bloated breasts.”

His train of thought was broken as a being came into his field of view. The Tholian would have grinned with triumph had he been able to move his facial muscles. Nevertheless, in his mind he crowed, “Ah, yes. Now the game begins.”  
The being wore a fully enclosed evac suit, complete with helmet and darkened face plate. All the Tholian could discern was that the being was bipedal, possessed two arms with hands and digits, was of moderate build and shorter than he was.   
“Human?” he speculated but then gave a mental shrug. “The species doesn’t matter. It’s here to interrogate me. I might as well settle into bargaining mode. This should prove highly amusing, especially when I play my trump cards. When it realises how much I know, and about whom…”  
The Tholian’s gloating came to an abrupt halt when he saw the being unholster a weapon. Suddenly his thoughts shifted to quickly assessing what might be the reason for such an action.  
“Torture?” he queried but then quickly dismissed the idea. “No, that’s not their style, more mine … although only through those like Rurke,” he qualified with a sense of superiority. “No, not torture.” He wanted to frown and shake his head as he thought, “Intimidation? Surely not?”  
Alarm shot through the Tholian as the being stepped close and placed the now brightly glowing tip of the weapon in the middle of his forehead. It spoke for the first time, the voice sounding strange and slightly accented as it emerged from the small speakers in the helmet. 

“You probably think this is a weapon, and you’d be right, it is. However, it is so, so much more.” It seemed to sigh. “It will extract everything your brain holds, every thought you’ve ever had, every memory you possess. And once it has taken all that you have to give, it will efficiently and painlessly end your life.”  
The being shrugged and tilted its head. “I might have once felt pity for you, for what’s about to happen to you, but as I recall what you’ve done … or caused to have done … to others, instead of pity I feel satisfaction that someone like you will no longer be able to prey on those who can’t defend themselves. You deserve this.”  
The Tholian didn’t feel anything, in fact he briefly thought the being had lied, or that the device had failed to function. That was before he realised he was rapidly losing the ability to form thoughts. There was a sudden yet extremely brief flash of panic, then he, the individual he was … had been … simply faded away.  
Thirty-one minutes and eight seconds later, there was a low hum as the device changed modes. The being felt it heat up, even through its gloves. There was a slight recoil as it discharged and the Tholian’s head vanished.  
Inside the helmet the being wrinkled its flared, flat nose, imagining it could smell the seared flesh of the Tholian’s neck stump. It gave no more thought to the body or the person it once was. It was crucial that the device be connected to a powerful and unique computer, specifically, a downloader. 

Once the information had been transferred it would be transformed into a data stream which would then be heavily encrypted to be sent to an anonymous end user. The being had no idea where it was going, nor did it want to know. That kind of information could shorten one’s life.  
Orders were given to make the jump to slip warp. On the pilot’s ship, the being smiled and gave a short nod. “Space will be a better place, now … at least until another like that rises.”  
Haf turned its attention back to the screens it had been watching. Picard and Riker. And Lannit Yan. And the broker, Rurke. The pilot gave a small shake of its head. “Rurke.” It sighed. “I wonder if learning the Tholian is dead will change anything? Will he give up what he knows? Or will I have to use…”  
It glanced at the device now sitting on the console. “I don’t suppose it matters much, I’ll be using it on Lannit Yan, anyway. Still…” it sighed, “I’ll give the captain and his loyal friend time to feel that they’ve extracted the truth from Lannit. I think it will assist Picard in his recovery. He certainly deserves some help.” It smiled. “Yes, let them think they’ve done the work, it’ll never be made known exactly how the information was gained.”

The second time Beverly and Deanna met with the mysterious fleet admiral had a quite different outcome from the first. Instead of leaving with a feeling of disquiet and suspicion, the women left buoyed and relieved.  
Their partners had survived the mission and were going to be returning soon. Once outside the Command building, Beverly threw her head back and took in a deep, cleansing breath. Deanna watched silently. She felt her friend’s joy, even though it was tinged with the slightest amount of fear.   
She felt the same way, but for different reasons. Where Beverly still harboured a small amount of fear of her husband, Deanna’s fear was for him, his mental health, and their marriage.  
And yet she had to admit that her captain had recovered from severe trauma before. She had to believe he could do so again. And she’d do everything her power to help him. She glanced at Beverly and amended silently, “Both of them.”

Tom’s frown was so deep he was feeling pain between his brows. In order to curtail his habit of fidgeting while he thought, he’d folded his arms across his chest and now, because of increasing tension, his shoulders were beginning to ache.   
“I’m not sure I understand why you’re interrogating me!” he said through his clenched jaw, soon to be another site of discomfort.  
The human male’s smile was becoming fixed. “I’m not interrogating you, Doctor Chalmers,” he replied in a slightly condescending tone, causing more irritation in Tom. “I’m simply trying to gain information,” he quickly held up his right index finger to silence Tom’s predictable protest. “information that may not only assist us in finding out who’s behind the attempt on your …” he hesitated slightly, “… friend’s … life, but also to keep her safe while we continue with our investigations.”  
“Why did you say it like that?” Tom was obviously angry, and the security head was puzzled as to why.   
“Pardon?”

“Friend’s.” Tom spat, accentuating the word.   
“Ah…” the man groped for a diplomatic answer. When nothing came to him, he abandoned the attempt. “Look, Doctor, I’ve no idea what your relationship with Ms. Kurnov is and frankly I don’t care. Friends, lovers, I couldn’t give a rat’s arse.” He paused and took a calming breath. “Please…” he continued in a gentler tone, “just answer my questions.”  
Tom did his best to lose his rigidity, both mental and physical. “Ok, I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to do your job, it’s just that…” he made a vague gesture, “so much has happened…”  
“I understand.” The man said with genuine sympathy. “Really, Doctor, I do.”  
“Yeah.” Tom sighed. “Ok, I’ll do my best.”

Fifteen minutes later Tom was running his hands through his hair. His exasperation mirrored the security head’s. “I don’t know!” Tom almost shouted. “I was working on a new propulsion system and, as far as I know, so was Katya. At least we were working on that together. If she was doing something else, I didn’t know about it.”  
Tom suddenly held up his hands and said curtly, “McCormack! You should be looking at Carl McCormack. If anyone’s responsible for this fucking attack on Katya, it’s him!”  
“Yes, so you keep saying.” The security head said patiently.  
“And I’ll say it again.” Tom growled. “And I’ll keep saying it ‘til you listen and fucking well do something.”  
The listener’s eyes hardened. “And what would you have me do, Doctor Chalmers?”  
“Investigate him!”

“How? Do you realise what would happen if we just barged into his affairs and started to rummage around?”  
Tom’s tone was scathing as he replied, “You’re afraid of a lawsuit?”  
“No.” The man responded with barely contained impatience. “No, not a lawsuit, Doctor. My concern is that if McCormack gets so much as a whiff that he’s being investigated, any evidence that might be in his possession will vanish. Disappear. As in, no longer exist. Do you understand? If he’s as guilty as you allege, then we need to catch him with his pants down. Unprepared.”  
The laugh that Tom gave was derisive. “With his pants down? Oh, my god, you’ve no idea just how sadly relevant and apt that term is, when referencing him.”  
“Yes, you’ve stated it’s your belief he’s a sexual predator, a paedophile.”  
“He is, he really is, and his niece is one of his victims.”  
“That would be Sally McCormack.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Tom’s replied anyway, his voice carrying his weariness.  
“And she was the victim of the assault that caused charges to be leveled against Ms. Kurnov?”  
“Yes.” Tom admitted begrudgingly, but quickly acted to clarify things. “Yes, Katya assaulted Sally, but she was provoked. Katya’s the victim of a…” he shook his hands in frustration. “A sexual assault, but not one.”  
“What?” the security said with confusion. “What the hell does that mean?”  
Tom sighed impatiently and shook his head. “It’s complicated. She was sexually assaulted but the person who did it was not responsible for his actions. He’d been drugged, he had no choice. Katya and his wife … he raped them both multiple times.”  
“Why am I just hearing about this now?”

Tom shrugged. “Because it’s not relevant. I seriously doubt McCormack wanted to kill Katya because she’d endured being raped.”  
The department head struggled to keep his anger at bay. “But he may have been motivated by Ms. Kurnov’s attack on his niece. And if her behaviour was caused by what she endured, then that links Carl McCormack to whatever happened to Ms. Kurnov.” The security head closed his eyes briefly as he still struggled to calm himself. “Do you know who the rapist is?”  
“Yes…” Tom’s reply was cautious.  
The security head simply raised his eyebrows, causing Tom to give up any pretense of confidentiality. “Captain Jean-Luc Picard.”  
“What?” The reply was clearly unbelieving. 

“It’s true.” Tom shrugged. “Apparently Katya, Captain Picard, his wife and their children were abducted from Haven, where they’d gone for a break, and the abductors decided to use them for breeding.”  
“To what end?”  
Tom held up his hands. “I don’t know.”  
There ensued a long silence while each man considered the information. It was the security head who broke it. “Right! Well, I have a lot more to investigate now. No doubt I’ll be talking to you again, Doctor Chalmers … and Ms. Kurnov when she’s able.”  
“Of course.”  
Tom was left feeling somewhat disjointed by the exchange. He stood in silence and gave everything some thought before deciding he had to talk to Katya. He exited the room, heading directly for her room. 

Lannit Yan was sweating profusely, something he’d never suffered under stress before. But this level of stress was something he’d not encountered before. The struggle to balance the dissemination of his knowledge against what might be offered as reward for doing so was having a telling effect. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew that he was on the losing end of the exchanges, that his interrogators held all the advantage. But years of keeping ahead of the game, of obfuscating, of misdirecting … those skills were not easily cast aside.  
However, Lannit Yan’s sense of self-preservation was finely honed, and he would not abandon it easily, or without a fight, pointless as it may seem.  
“Ah,” he muttered, doing his best to maintain a semblance of power and confidence. “I’ll tell you that only if you give something of equal weight.”  
Will smiled, but it was a cold expression. “Give you something?” he scoffed quietly. “We don’t see why, Yan. Our position remains the same. You answer our questions, and we might see if we find what you tell us is worthy of shaving a year or two off from your multiple life sentences.”

“You can’t do that to me!” Lannit blustered, already knowing it was a useless gesture. “You can’t possibly know what your courts will do, what they’ll deliver as punishment.”  
Jean-Luc’s grin was wolfish. “It seems you know the verdicts already, Lannit Yan. It seems to me that you’re more than aware of your crimes, that you’re aware that no Federation court is going to find you anything less that guilty as charged. Why are you even trying to bargain? You have nothing to bargain with.”  
“I have rights.” Lannit claimed weakly.

Will took up the conversation again. “Yes, you do, however, most of those rights only apply to the innocent. Any rights for the guilty are quite different, and not nearly so generous.”  
There was a short, tense silence, before Lannit murmured, “So? What must I do to earn any mercy?”  
“Mercy?” Jean-Luc said coldly. “Mercy?” he repeated with anger. “You don’t deserve any mercy, Lannit Yan. All you can hope for is that the rest of your miserable, worthless life is spent in a Federation incarceration facility.”   
His cold grin returned as he added, “Of course we could always hand you over to other, more unenlightened worlds, where your crimes committed on their worlds would be dealt with far more severity.” The captain’s gaze hardened. “Many worlds still have capital punishment as an option. Personally, I would agree with that, just for you, mind, but handing you over remains an option.”  
“No…” Lannit Yan felt the crushing defeat, it caused his body to deflate and his head to bow. “No, please, don’t do that. I’ll tell you everything.”

Jean-Luc’s sigh was an inward one, nothing of his relief showed outwardly. Over the next 40 minutes, Lannit Yan answered every question put to him and elaborated to clarify every unknown detail. And through it all, Jean-Luc maintained his control. Inevitably, his monumental effort to hold on, to keep at bay all the potent emotions within him that clamoured so loudly, would emerge in some way.   
Somewhere, deep inside him, he understood that when that happened, he would have to have some kind of help. He fervently hoped that those he loved wouldn’t bear the brunt of the coming storm. He hoped.

Beverly breezed into the living area, her smile a radiant one. “What do you think?” she asked Deanna, who was standing at the floor to ceiling windows, admiring the view of San Francisco harbour.   
She turned and ran a critical eye over her best friend. “Not bad,” she said, nodding. “But maybe a different colour for your top?”  
Before Beverly could respond, James said, “Maman? Is papa really coming back soon?”  
The doctor went to her son and ran her fingers down his face in gesture of tenderness. “Yes, James,” she confirmed. “papa’s coming back soon.”  
The boy grinned, but it was somewhat uncertain. “If papa’s coming home soon why are you asking aunt Deanna about your clothes?”  
“Ah,” Beverly’s smile grew. “I want to look my best for papa.”

“Oh.” James replied doubtfully. “Will me and Elly have to wear special things too?”  
Beverly chose to forego correcting his speech. Instead she nodded. “Yes. Don’t you think it’d be good to wear nice things when you see papa again?”  
“Yes…” James’s confusion was still evident. “But, maman, why does it matter?”  
Her patience beginning to fray, Beverly sought to end the conversation with her son decisively. “Just let me make the decisions, James.”  
“Ok.” he replied in a small voice. 

A quietly concerned Deanna chose to gently caution her friend. “Don’t make too much of it, Beverly, the captain’s going to be focused only on you and the children. What you all wear is probably going to be irrelevant.”  
There was a glare brewing when Beverly glanced at the counsellor, but it was quickly quashed. “Yes, I know,” she admitted, “but I just want to … to celebrate his,” she offered a smile and added, “their return.”  
“And I agree with you, I want to celebrate that too.” Deanna’s enthusiastic smile conveyed her sympathy, but then she sobered. “We don’t know what they’ve been through, how high their stress levels are. And they are unaware of what we’ve been through. Perhaps we should just concentrate on having them back, on the reintegration for all of us, together…”

It took a few seconds before Beverly acceded. She gave a slightly reluctant nod, but she sought a more agreeable mien when she said. “So not this top. Ok, got that.” She turned to exit the room but not before adding, “I suppose being naked isn’t an option?”  
Deanna chuckled and called out, “Probably not, although I think both Will and the captain would appreciate it.”  
She was still chuckling quietly when she heard James ask, “Aunty Deanna?”  
She went to him and sat on the floor beside him. “Yes?”  
“When papa comes back, will he still be different?”  
Immediately concerned, Deanna replied, “What do you mean, James?”

The little boy sighed, “Before the holiday, papa and maman were the same. But after they were different. I didn’t like it.”  
“Hmm, yes. I can see what you mean.”  
“Why, aunty Deanna. Why were they different? Papa had pictures on him. Why did he have pictures?”  
Deanna took a moment or two to order her thoughts. “James,” she began, “you know the difference between right and wrong?”  
“Yes, kinda. Sometimes I … I do things wrong.”  
Having run her fingers through his hair, Deanna graced him with a tender smile. “And that’s fine.” she stressed the word with a kiss to his brow. “You’re still learning, James, just like Elly.”

She gestured to the baby, snoozing on her mat. “But there are some grownups that choose to do bad things. Some bad people did some bad things to your maman and papa and Katya and that’s made them unhappy … and that caused them to seem different.”   
“But I don’t like them different. I want it like it was before.” James glanced at his sister and added, “So does Elly. She doesn’t like the different either.”  
Deanna smiled inwardly. Though she was certain that Elly was feeling the change in her mother, she also knew that James had used the addition of his sister’s feelings to add weight to his complaint. There was no point in calling him on it; Deanna chose to simply accept it. He was, after all, correct.  
“When your papa comes back, I’ll help him and your maman to get back to the way they were before.”

She smiled and put her fingers under James’ chin to lift his face so she could look into his eyes. “But it may take some time, James. The things that have happened have made your parents very sad, so it’s going to be hard to make them all better. You…” Deanna gestured to Elly, “both of you will have to be patient. In fact,” the counsellor smiled tenderly, “I’m counting on you, James. I know your love will help your parents a lot. You and Elly are the most important things in their lives. With your help, I’m sure they’ll try very hard to get better.”  
James nodded solemnly and Deanna almost gasped at how much he resembled his father at that moment. It passed and James’s mood lightened. He let out a giggle which he tried to cover by putting his hands over his mouth. “I know a secret.” he managed to say between giggles.  
Deanna appreciated the change in the little boy’s mood and decided to play along. “And what is it?” she grinned. “Are you going to tell me?”

Mischief danced in James’s eyes as he lowered his hands and whispered, “Sometimes maman and papa sleep with no clothes on.”  
The counsellor barely suppressed a snigger. “Really?” she replied, trying to not show the wicked, delighted grin that wanted so badly to show itself. “How do you know?”  
“Yes!” James confirmed. “I know because sometimes I go into their bed at night … if I have a yucky dream. And when I get in the bed, maman and papa has no pajamas on.” He seemed to give that statement some consideration before clarifying it with, “but not every time.”  
“No, I suppose not.” Deanna smiled.

“I asked papa why he and maman sometimes don’t wear pajamas.” James’s tone made his curiosity evident.  
Again, Deanna only just managed to suppress an evilly delighted grin. “Really? What did he say?”  
“He said that he and maman have special cuddles that make them hot. So, they take their pajamas off to cool down.” He sighed and shook his head. “I really like cuddles, but I’ve never had one that made me hot.”  
“Well,” Deanna was losing her battle and offered a chuckle. “Perhaps it’s a grown-up thing?”  
James gave his aunt a scathing look, but then his expression changed as he asked, “Do you and uncle Will do the hot cuddles?”  
Finally, Deanna gave up trying to control her amusement. She put her head back and laughed outright. Beverly, drawn by the laughter, came into the room, two blouses held in each of her hands. “What’s so funny?” she asked, a delighted yet slightly suspicious expression on her face.

Deanna’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she replied, “James has been telling me how you and the captain sometimes sleep with no pajamas on. He explained that his papa told him you two have special cuddles that make you hot. So …” Deanna guffawed, “you have to take your clothes off.”  
The blush rose rapidly on Beverly’s face. She tried to pass her embarrassment off, but just as quickly gave up. “Well, what can I say?” she conceded with a wry smile. “Special cuddles are heat inducing.”   
She shrugged, making Deanna laugh all the more. Elly, stirred by the noise, grizzled before rolling over and sitting up. To redirect the attention, Beverly went to her daughter and picked her up. “I’m just going to change Elly...”  
“You do that.” Deanna chuckled. “We’ll still be here when you come back.”  
“Thanks for that.” Beverly quipped as she picked Elly up and took her to the nursery.

With Jean-Luc and Will in their assigned quarters, the pilot was standing outside Rurke’s cell, considering what would be the best course of action. Instructions had been given, but the decision on what to do with Rurke had been left largely to its discretion.  
The broker seemed to sense that his life hung in the balance, yet he remained stoic. The pilot raised its hand and showed Rurke the device it held. “You know what this is.” It wasn’t a question.  
The broker gave a nod and a small smile appeared. “I should. I’ve seen it used on more than one occasion.”  
“I’ve no doubt.” The pilot’s eyes glinted. “And seeing that your employer, the Tholian, provided the funds for the development of this…” it frowned in distaste, making the pale, thin skin of its forehead crease oddly. “…and other devices like it, I’d imagine you’ve seen many instances of their use.”

“Not as many as you might think.” Rurke’s smile faded a little. “My employer was very careful in how, when, and where his tech was used. He preferred others to do his bidding.” The broker shrugged. “And, of course, it’s often the case where a more … traditional … approach to harvesting information gains a more visceral response. And then, of course, word spreads. Sometimes a reputation, a tacit threat of what’s to come…” he shrugged again. “Those like me have our place, our uses, where one of those things…” he gestured to the device, “is only used once.”  
“I see your point.” The pilot almost shuddered. It then adopted a quieter tone. “You know the Tholian is dead and that we are now in possession of everything his brain contained?”  
“I assumed as much.” Rurke’s tone carried his weariness. “And can I assume Lannit Yan has met the same fate?”  
“Not yet, but soon.”

Rurke nodded slowly. “No one will mourn Lannit Yan; he is a vile, contemptible thing. I think perhaps the action that results in his death should be considered an act of common decency.”  
The pilot’s thin eyebrows rose. It hadn’t expected that.  
“The Tholian’s demise is different, though.” Rurke sighed. “Yes, his power was misdirected and had pervaded … and perverted far too many otherwise noble entities, such as Starfleet and the Federation council, but they gained by prostituting themselves to the likes of him.”  
Rurke gestured again to the device. “I know that the Federation has access to things like that, but what’s more important is the technology behind it. They have the wherewithal to expand it and, importantly, to redirect the applications of what follows.”  
There was a hint of derision in Haf’s tone as it said, “To use for the powers of good?”  
The quiet chuckle was unexpected. “I’m not so naïve.” Rurke’s humour waned. “No, there’ll always be a need for violence of one sort or another, that is the nature of things, but those who strive for a higher standard, who possess a nobler ideal … fortunately there are more of them than those who would seek to corrupt the organisations they serve.”  
“So, you think the good will conquer the bad?”

“Again, that’s too naïve, too simplistic. That particular battle will always be in progress. For now, it’s my belief that wiser minds will prevail. For the future? I don’t know.”  
He grinned at the pilot and, incredibly, winked. “Of course, my life may end in a few short moments. My opinions, my views are only relevant to me and then only for as long as I’m alive.”  
The pilot returned the grin and nodded. “Indeed.” It then sobered. “And so, Rurke, I must decide what to do with you.” It sighed and shook its head. “You pose a problem, Rurke. Though it’s doubtful you hold any information that we don’t know about already, it’s true that it’s about relevance.” The being looked down at the device and shook its head again. “I find I don’t want to do this, Rurke.”  
“If you don’t…” Rurke said quietly, “what’s the alternative? What other options do you have?”  
The pilot’s eyes seemed to strobe with colour, making its pale skin seem translucent. “Do you have a family, Rurke?”  
The broker frowned with genuine surprise. “You have to ask? Why don’t you know?”

The smile that crept over Haf’s face carried a hint of embarrassment. “Forgive me, Rurke. Our resources are vast, but we still must be conservative with their use. In other words…”  
“I’m not important enough.” Rurke concluded with a wry grin. “Fair enough. To answer your question, Yes, I have family. I have some siblings, but what are important to me are my children. My mate died long ago, and my offspring are grown. We became estranged a long time ago. They didn’t approve of my work…”  
He shook his head and a frown developed. “Yet I find, as I age, that I wish to see them, to reconnect with them,” He sighed, an oddly sentimental gesture for him. “at least once before I die. Unfortunately, they may not want that, but it’s something I have caused and regretted for a long time. I would like to try and change that.”  
“You’re an honourable being in your own way, Rurke. I’m not completely ignorant of your activities, of your … principles in carrying some of them out.” It seemed to strive for thought before giving a soft snort and lifting its head to give the captive a decisive look. “I take it you are willing to retire? To stop what you’ve been doing for so long?”  
“Yes.” Rurke said softly with a nod.

“You’ve had other employers in the past?”  
“Yes, but not for many years. The Tholian was an uncompromising and dangerous employer but he paid very generously.”  
“Indeed.” The pilot’s reply was bone dry. It took a deep breath and continued in a milder tone, “If you give your assurance, you word, that you will stop, that you will return to your family and cease all brokering and your other professional activities, then I will spare you. We will take possession of your ship and we will transport you to wherever you wish to go.”  
The relief Rurke felt was barely discernible, yet Haf detected it.  
“I give you my word, my solemn vow,” Rurke said solemnly, “that I will cease and desist all of my former activities. I will go to my family, reconcile with them, and live out what’s left of my life in peace.”  
The pilot’s expression was hard; its tone carried a warning. “Don’t ever think we won’t be watching, Rurke. One misstep, one instance of regression and what remains of your life will end.”  
“I understand.”

The pilot left and made its way to Lannit’s cell. The captive rose quickly from his bunk and moved to stand close to the force field. Haf gave a disarming smile as it said gently, “I have something for you, Lannit Yan, something to help you sleep. I know how stressful these situations are, the interrogations you’ve had to endure.”  
Surprise registered on Lannit’s face. “Oh!” he uttered, his mind already sizing up the slightly built alien, looking to find a way to engineer his escape. “Oh, that would be appreciated. Picard and Riker, they badgered me, they made me so fearful for my safety,” his eyes darted to and fro as he added in a confidential tone, “especially Picard. I think he’s…” he tapped his temple.  
The pilot smiled as if to agree and gestured to the force field. “I’ll have to lower this. You will agree to obey my instructions?”  
“Yes! Of course!” Lannit’s mind was cluttered with ploys and cruel derision. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re this fucking stupid!” he crowed silently, already envisioning his escape.  
It was suddenly silent without the hum of the barrier. The pilot beckoned Lannit forward and, as he complied, the pilot saw the barely perceptible flash of defiance in Lannit’s eyes. “No.” Haf said quietly as it quickly placed the tip of the device in the centre of Lannit’s forehead. “No more, Lannit Yan.” 

The process was swift. The instrument was able to discard any information that was already known. It turned out Lannit Yan knew truly little that the Federation wished to know, although those worlds that had unsolved crimes perpetrated by Yan and Twenth would be sent the gathered information. If nothing else, it would assist the law and order entities to close the cases and the families of the victims to find some closure.  
The pilot stared briefly at the beheaded body before activating another program that beamed the remains into space. It returned to the bridge and placed a locator buoy on Rurke’s ship for later retrieval. Having achieved its tasks, it ordered its ship into slip warp. Destination, Earth.

The fleet admiral smiled at the image on the screen. “I’m gratified.” she said quietly. “To have been able to help, to have been able to advise at such a crucial juncture …” she sighed. “This has taken generations to achieve. They are such good people; they hold such lofty and genuine ideals…”  
“Yes, but we will have to disclose soon. We can’t hide ourselves any longer. We must tell the members what we’ve done and how we’ve done it. There’s no option but a full and frank admission.”  
“Agreed.” The fleet admiral sighed. “It will cause anger, possible vigorous protest.”  
“As it should,” the image of the being nodded. “Yet I feel that the members will eventually see and then accept the logic of our actions … our interference.”

“Yes! And that ability, to express those protests, that anger, and then to consider more calmly, that’s why we chose to help, so long ago.”  
“Yes, but now we must turn our attention to those who’ve suffered most. Those who’ve borne the brunt of the latest attempts at corruption.”   
“The Tholian, Lannit Yan and Twenth. What they did, what they wrought.”  
“Yes. Their victims were deplorable pawns in a much larger conspiracy. They shouldn’t have to bear the costs.”  
“No.” The fleet admiral shook her head. “No, indeed. What Lannit Yan and Twenth did drew them into something that was originally unintended, at least by the perpetrators. In some ways they were victims too. Victims of their own perverted greed as well as the Tholain’s manipulations.”

“Agreed, and we must bear the blame for not anticipating how the Tholian would take advantage of the situation.” The image on the screen sighed. “We must not be so complacent again. Vigilant. We must remain vigilant.”  
The fleet admiral nodded solemnly. “Experience is a great teacher. We can all still learn.” She smiled, but then her expression sobered. “Now, what do we do about those who have been corrupted?”  
“Ah, yes. A larger problem than first estimated.” The image shook its head. “Too much has been discovered about us; too many people have interacted with our members. Perhaps…” the being hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, perhaps we should disclose fully, expose the corrupted as we admit our presence and explain our motives?”  
“That will cause much unrest, many protests…”

“Agreed, but time and again these people, the Federation members, have shown, when confronted with unexpected and shocking news, once the initial shock passes, they have the ability to assess, to examine, and come to sensible decisions. We have to trust them to do the same now.”  
“While I agree with you,” the fleet admiral said guardedly, “I fear the coming weeks, and months, will be difficult, for all concerned.”  
“Yes, but the reasons our people chose to help these people, those of the Federation of Planets, remains unchanged. They are worthy of assistance. And we must give it.”  
The fleet admiral smiled and offered an inclination of her head by way of acceptance. “I look forward to speaking with you again.”  
“And, I, you.”

The screen darkened, indicating the channel had closed. The ancient female gave a decisive nod and quietly called the computer into action.   
“Implement psychological retrieval of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Doctor Beverly Picard, James Picard, Elly Picard and former Ensign Katya Kurnov. Effective as of now, and when is considered convenient, given current circumstances.   
“Also, implement dissemination of information pertaining to the corruption of Starfleet members, all ranks, Federation council members, all levels, and all those in the private sector. Effective, immediately, dissemination of all records to all media outlets, official and unofficial. Attach factual verification.”  
The female ignored the chimes of the computer’s compliance. She sighed and sat back in her chair, turning her gaze to the dense foliage that surrounded her workspace. “So,” she sighed. “it has begun. This will be my generation’s legacy. And, perhaps,” she frowned sadly, “its burden.”

Tom made sure his entry into Katya’s room was silent, yet he wasn’t surprised when he heard her say, “No need to creep around, Tom. I’m awake.”  
He plastered a smile on his face as he oriented himself in the room. Katya wasn’t in bed. She was seated near the window, her feet planted on the low sill, her feet crossed at the ankles.  
“How long have you been up?” Tom asked with quiet concern.  
“Don’t you mean, awake?” Her sarcasm was obvious. She shifted and lowered her feet before resettling herself in the chair. “Sorry, Tom.” she said softly. “I’m so over this…” she waved vaguely and then let her hand drop to her lap. “I feel like I’m going mad …” she chuckled sadly, “but of course I can’t be. My medications would prevent that. After all, I’m in the loony bin already! No one in here is crazy.”

An uncomfortable silence passed while Tom searched for something to say that was placatory without being condescending.   
He needn’t have bothered. “Who the fuck am I trying to kid?” Katya said bitterly. “I must be crazy, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”  
“You’re not crazy.” Tom said. “Recent events prove that.”  
“The attempts on my life?” Katya asked with a derisive laugh. “That’s got nothing to do with my mental state. That’s all about Sally fucking McCormack.”  
“Maybe,” Tom murmured as he dragged a chair closer to hers and sat. “Maybe not. Stuff’s happening, Katya. Really big stuff.”  
“Meaning what?” Her sharp tone clearly showed she was wide awake.

Tom belatedly realised he’d said too much. Now the information he was privy to had become potentially detrimental to his friend, rather than helpful. “Oh…” he made a dismissive gesture. “nothing. Just, you know, just official bullshit.”  
“Tom.” Katya’s tone was uncompromising. “Whatever it is you know, tell me.”  
Tom squirmed momentarily in his chair before throwing his hands in the air. “Fine!” he spat. And then, more softly, “Fine.” He took a deep breath and offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Katya, but I told the security head … the one leading the investigation into the attempts on your life, about what happened to you … on Haven.”  
He saw her expression go blank and he hurried to explain himself. “It just came up!” he protested weakly. “I was being, well, interrogated and I was trying to convince the SH to turn his attention towards Carl McCormack. And that made him ask me some stuff, and so I told him some stuff … and the next thing I know is he’s made a connection between what happened to you and what happened with Sally … and why her uncle might be … well … connected to all of it.”

Somehow Katya managed to regain control of her roiling emotions. “How?” she asked quietly. “How is he connected?”  
“I don’t know,” Tom said as he shrugged. “but the SH seemed pretty keen to expand the investigation ‘cause of what I told him. He told me he was going to come and talk to you.”  
“Did he now?” Katya’s mind was already turning everything over. She paused for a few moments before saying, “Tom? Did the Security Head say anything about tech?”  
Again, Tom shrugged. “Not specifically, but I’ve heard that some pretty awesome stuff has been found on the man who got into your room.”  
Katya’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” she pulled down her mouth in an expression of being impressed. “That’s very interesting, very interesting indeed.”  
“Why?” Tom asked warily.

The smile that Katya offered became was predatory. “Do you remember when we were working on that new warp drive? The one that seemed to break the laws of physics?”  
“Of course, I remember.” Tom snorted derisively. “We followed protocol and sent our results over to the main building.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand as he grunted and said, “And we were told to can it. Months of my work, and later yours too, trashed with no explanation.”  
“What if it wasn’t trashed?”   
“What? Katya, what the hell are you suggesting? That GWT hid our findings? For what purpose? If we were right, that meant GWT stood to make a huge profit on a new, highly lucrative warp drive.”  
“But what if they already had the stats? What if McCormack already knew?”

Tom’s slightly slack jaw told its own story. As Katya watched she could almost see his thought processes in action. The first word out of his mouth was profane. “Fuck!”  
There was dry humour in her voice when Katya replied, “Fuck, indeed.”  
Tom’s mind was spinning. “So, if McCormack already had the stats … and maybe the drive itself, where the fuck did he get it? And why,” Tom’s voice was rising in anger. “Why the fuck did he prevent us, people he employed to do this kind of work, why did he prevent us from developing what we’d found?”  
“I don’t know.” Katya sighed as she rubbed her temples. “But this is all somehow linked, Tom. Like the SH said, somehow this is all connected.”

Jean-Luc had been sleeping soundly, far more soundly than he’d slept in some time. The soft, musical chime that eventually, after several repetitions, pulled him from his slumber caused him to bark sourly, “Yes! What is it?”  
There was sympathy in the pilot’s voice as it said, “I’m sorry to have woken you, Captain, but we are approaching the Sol system. I thought perhaps you might like time to bathe and remove the hair from your face before we arrive?”  
“Yes… Thank you.” Jean-Luc managed. “What is our ETA?”  
“One hour, Captain. You will have time for a meal as well.”  
“And where will we disembark?  
“Starfleet Command, San Francisco.”  
“Local time there?”  
“Zero ten thirty thirty-nine hours on arrival, sir.”  
“I see. Well …” Jean-Luc was about to close the channel when he thought of something. “Pilot?”  
“Yes, Captain?”

“The prisoners? I take it Starfleet intelligence has been informed and is ready to take them?”  
There was a small hesitation before Haf replied, “Neither Rurke nor Lannit Yan are aboard any longer, Captain. They left the ship some time ago.” The pilot then added, “While you were asleep.”  
“Oh, I see. So where did they go? Who took charge of them?”  
“That’s not something you need to concern yourself with, Captain. Rest assured they have been subjected to adequate and thorough methods of security.”  
The channel closed, leaving a frowning Jean-Luc to mutter, “What the hell does that mean? Adequate and thorough methods of security?” He shook his head as he was making his way to his small bathroom. After a moment’s thought, he contacted Will.  
“Yes, Captain?”

“Number One, we’re due to disembark at SFC in about an hour.”  
He was interrupted as Will said, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just you who’ll be going to Earth. Any minute now I’ll be transferred to a ship that’s going to reunite me with the Enterprise. My orders are to bring her home.”  
“Oh,” Jean-Luc didn’t try to hide his surprise, but recovered quickly. “Very good, Number One, but before you go, are you aware that Rurke and Lannit Yan are no longer aboard?”  
“No, sir, I’m not.”

“I asked the pilot who had them … where they’d been taken, and I didn’t get a straight answer.”  
“I don’t know what to say, Captain. I guess SFI has preempted the process and…” Jean-Luc heard the soft voice of the pilot in the background as it spoke to Will. He updated his CO quickly. “Apologies, Captain, I have to go.”  
Jean-Luc didn’t have the opportunity to respond. Will had left the ship.

Deanna was watching her friend closely. Beverly was unable to stand still, first transferring her weight from foot to foot as she stood and then, when that failed to dispel her restlessness, she began to pace while she patted Elly’s bottom erratically through the padded material of the carry cocoon and her nappy.   
Deanna noted the patting was becoming too fast, a nervous tic, rather than a comforting gesture for the little girl. The child had begun to exhibit her discomfort by starting to grizzle. James too was reacting to his mother’s tension. He was holding her hand, but his thumb had slipped into his mouth, something he’d not done for some time, and his gaze was fixed on his feet.  
“Beverly.” Deanna said gently. “Try to calm down.” She would have said more, but a sharp reply from the doctor cut her off.   
“Calm down?” Beverly spat. “Oh, sure, I’m about to see my husband, the one that was sent on a virtual suicide mission, emerge through the doors in one piece. How the hell am I supposed to respond? A hug? A kiss? For god’s sake Deanna, how the fuck am I supposed to….”

James gasped and lifted his gaze to his mother, his thumb slipping from his mouth. “You said a bad word, maman.”  
The doctor closed her eyes as she tried to rein in her tumultuous emotions. She took a deep breath and found a smile for her son. “I’m sorry, James, you’re quite right, I did and I’m sorry.”  
James shook his head. “But why, maman? Are you angry at papa?’  
It was difficult for Beverly to control herself. “No.” she managed to broaden her smile. “No, I’m not angry with papa. I’m just … I’m just really excited to see him.”  
James gave that some thought and summoned a small smile. “Me too.” he said softly, but added, “But I hope he’s not still different.”

“Different?” Beverly asked, but whatever she may have said further was lost as the doors whispered open. A tired looking Jean-Luc stepped into the room and summoned a small smile. “Hello.” he said quietly, as he dropped his small bag.   
“Hi.” Beverly replied. James withdrew his hand from his mother’s and took two steps towards his father. “Papa?” he said uncertainly.  
Jean-Luc dropped to one knee and spread his arms. “James, my sweet son.”  
The little boy needed no further encouragement. He ran to his father and hit him with enough force for Jean-Luc to have to quickly brace himself by dropping one arm and putting his hand on the floor behind him. “Hey!” he said as he chuckled. “Hey, James, steady on.”

Beverly had moved to be closer to her husband and squatted before him. “Someone else wants to see you.” she said as she undid the carry cocoon. Elly caught sight of her father and grinned widely. Her arms opened and Jean-Luc managed to gently manoeuvre James to one side, so as to allow him to embrace his little daughter, while still embracing his son.  
“Hello, little Elly.” he said as his eyes closed in joy. “Papa has missed you.” He opened his eyes and they filled with tears as he caught Beverly’s gaze. “I’ve missed all of you so much.”  
Somehow Beverly managed to raise a watery smile. “And we’ve missed you. Very much.” Her voice broke and she could say nothing more.  
Deanna, standing to one side, watched with mixed emotions. She was pleased the initial reunion had gone well, but her happiness was tinged by the fact that her partner, Will Riker, had not returned yet. No one had been able to tell her when the Enterprise would return to Earth and until it did; she would just have to wait. Not necessarily patiently.

When Katya first saw the security head, she was unimpressed by his physical appearance. He was a human and seemed to be in his thirties. Short-cropped sandy hair topped a face of unremarkable features. Pale blue eyes, short straight nose, and a firm chin. He was of average height, but stockily built. And he moved and held himself with uncommon grace, and yet with undeniable power.  
Katya may have been unimpressed with his appearance, but there was no doubt she had confidence in his abilities. He exuded self-assuredness. He introduced himself by name and title, and asked her to use his given name, which was Peter.  
“So, Ms. Kurnov, you’re aware I’ve spoken to Dr. Chalmers?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good. And may I ask, have you spoken to him since my conversation with him?”  
“Yes, I have.”

“I see.” The SH nodded slowly as his gaze sharpened. “What did he tell you about that interview?”  
Katya shrugged and tried to appear unperturbed. The butterflies in her stomach and her racing heart told another story entirely. “Oh,” she said, offering a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, yeah, he mentioned that he told you about the sexual assaults.”  
“The one perpetrated by Captain Jean-Luc Picard while you were with him and his family on Haven. Correct?”  
Katya shifted in her chair and struggled to contain her rapidly rising panic. “Look, Peter,” she said and then took a deep, steadying breath. “we don’t have to rehash all of that, do we? It was a bad thing that happened. It’s over it and I’m … I’m recovering. Okay? Let’s just move on.”

“I’m sure you are recovering.” Peter’s tone was gentle. “But I have a problem, Ms. Kurnov.”   
Before he could say anything further, Katya interrupted with, “Katya! For fuck’s sake, call me Katya.”  
Peter’s smile was quick and carried genuine warmth. “Thank you.”  
His soft reply caught her off guard. She’d expected something else. Something more formal.  
“My problem, Katya,” he smiled again, this time apologetically, “is that I now believe that the attempts on your life are somehow linked to those assaults.”  
Katya said nothing for a few long, tense moments as she strove to find the confidence in this man, one she’d only just met, to confess that she’d reached the same conclusion.  
Eventually she sighed and said, “Yeah,” softly. “yeah, I feel the same thing.”  
Peter’s eyebrows rose. “Do you? Now that’s very interesting, don’t you think?”  
Katya’s brows knitted. “Why?” she asked warily. “Why do you find that interesting?”

Peter shrugged as he spread his hands. “That you’ve reached the same conclusion that I have, but more than that, I’m extremely interested to know how you arrived at it. Did you follow the same path as I did, or did you find another way? A different path?”  
Despite her wariness, her panic, Katya gave his words some consideration. She quickly came to a point where she believed she understood the question he’d posed. “Ok, so you got there after Tom told you about what’d happened to me.”  
Peter nodded silently, encouraging Katya to continue. “Right. Well I got there simply because of something I remembered.” She held up her hand to stop any obvious questions. “Not about the assaults.” She shook her head as she mentally brushed away the memories. “It was about our research … Tom and mine.”  
Peter had heard the plural of the words she’d used, assaults, and filed it away for further investigation. He remained silent as Katya continued.   
“I’m not exactly sure how much I can tell you from a technologically confidential perspective, I did sign some documents that protect the intellectual property of GWT.”   
Peter nodded his understanding. “I guess all I can tell you is that Tom and I discovered something in our research that changed the playing field for warp drive propulsion. As we were required to do, we sent our results straight to head office.” She sighed and made an irritated shake of her head. “It was canned!” 

Katya saw the confused look on the security head’s’s face and hurried to elaborate. “We’d found something really unique; really out there in terms of what’d been known about WD … warp dynamics,” she clarified. “It had the potential to be a huge profit winner for GWT. I mean …really huge. But nothing happened. We were told to forget that branch of our research, to simply walk away from what we’d been working on for fucking months…” She paused to regain control of her rising anger. “And so, we did. Not like we had much choice.”  
“How did that cause you to link what ensued with the assaults?”  
“Sally McCormack.” Katya spat bitterly. “That bitch knew, she knew what had happened to me and she used that to goad me because of my friendship with Tom. She deliberately targeted him, she seduced him, but only because she knew we were close.” Katya sighed sadly. “I fucked up. I fucked up so badly by reacting to her provocation.” She waved vaguely. “So now I’m here. In the loony bin and charged with assault.”  
“If we can prove the connection between Carl McCormack and what’s happened to you … specifically the attempts on your life, then I seriously doubt you’ll be held accountable for what ensued.”  
“Maybe.” Katya sighed. “At this point I don’t care. It’s not like I have any significant input.”  
“You certainly do have input, Katya.” Peter gave the young woman an uncompromising look. “It’s information like yours that gives us the ammunition we need to broaden our investigation and bring down those like Carl McCormack.”

“Sally.” Katya said softly.  
“Pardon?”  
“Sally McCormack. As much as I hate her, I’ve come to believe she’s a victim too … a victim of her uncle, Carl McCormack. The sexual predator.”  
“Yes, I’ve been told that.”  
Katya gave the man a long look. “So, are you doing anything about it?”  
“With every new piece of evidence against him, we gain more purchase to widen our investigation.”  
“So, you’ve done nothing.” Katya said derisively.  
“No, that’s not true. We’re moving against him, Katya, but such is his power, his connectedness, that we must be cautious. If we move too quickly … unprepared … we risk the opportunity to get him. We must be on more than solid ground. We have to be on rock solid foundations.”  
“Yeah, well.” Katya sighed. “Good luck with that.”

Peter let the moment pass before asking, “Is there anyone else I can talk to about the McCormacks? Either of them?”  
Katya gave the question some thought before offering a one shoulder shrug. “Most of the tech staff at GWT would have something to say about Sally and most of what you’d hear would be pretty derogatory. She’s one of those people you either love or hate. But those who’d professed to love her would be either a lap dog, you know, a natural sycophant, or she’d have some kind of hold over them, so their declarations of devotion would be complete and utter bullshit.”  
She pursed her lips and then nodded. “Yeah.” she said as if agreeing with an unspoken thought. “Carl has a PA, a man called Calvin Ebson. You know that woman who was killed when I was talking to her outside, in the gardens?”  
The SH nodded.  
“She’d been giving me information about stuff over the last few months at GWT. Once I knew what kind of person Sally was, I wanted to make sure my private business stayed private. Paying a confidant seem a wise investment.” Katya sighed sadly and shook her head. “I never thought it might put her life at risk…”  
“You’re not to blame for her death, Katya.”  
“Yeah, I know … but still…” She looked up at Peter and her distress was plain to see. “My regret is pointless. You don’t come back from dead.”  
Peter said nothing and his gentle silence encouraged Katya to continue. “Just before she was killed, she told me that McCormack’s PA was gathering evidence against him. Apparently Ebson’s cousin was abused by McCormack when she was little. It was the kind of stuff we’d … Tom and I, had been hoping to get our hands on, to help me defend my case.”  
“Now that’s something I can work with.” Peter smiled.

Katya gave him a long look, then asked, “So what about the Andorian? The female who was the first to interview me after my informant was killed. And, for that matter, what about the weird DNA thing with the killer? The Andorian had told me there was a tenuous link to McCormack through that.”  
“There was,” Peter replied guardedly, “however, that side of the investigation is being carried out by others. As for my Andorian colleague, she continues to work diligently on your case and everything we uncover is shared. Rest assured, Katya, there are a lot of talented, resourceful, and determined people working on this.”  
He smiled, but the expression quickly gave way to a more serious expression. “When we move against the suspects, it will be only after we’ve gathered all the evidence there is.”  
He stood and seemed to flex his body slightly. Katya thought he was leaving. He was, but not quite yet. “When I came in on this case, I thought it was a straightforward one. And yet the longer I work on it, the more I discover about it, the bigger and more complicated it becomes.” He snorted and shook his head. “And the bigger the suspected guilty parties get. By the gods … Carl McCormack. They don’t get much bigger than him.”  
“The bigger they are…” Katya’s eyebrows rose.

“The harder they fall.” Peter finished and offered a wry smile. “Yes, I’m familiar with the saying, I frequently encounter it in action in my line of work.” He gave the listening woman a speculative look and seemed to arrive at a decision.  
“The details don’t concern you, Katya, but I can tell you that our investigation is uncovering matters of huge proportions. Once we move, the results will reverberate through many worlds … and at an exceptionally high level. The upper echelons of a lot of corporations, world governments and even the Federation Council may become extremely nervous.”  
Katya shrugged. “It’s only the guilty who need to be scared.”  
“Ture enough.” Peter agreed affably. He then held up his right index finger. “And yet for me personally, the bottom line is you. Exonerating you. Finding the evidence that will adequately explain why you acted as you did and in so doing, grant you the justice you deserve.”

“Thank you, Peter.” she smiled and then added quietly, “And if that leads you to bringing down others … the big players … then go for it. I’ll testify to what was done to me in open court.”  
“I hope you won’t have to, Katya, I really do. There are too many people who’ve already been damaged by this … this … clusterfuck.”  
“Yeah.” Katya’s tone carried her sadness.  
“Well.” Peter adopted a far more positive attitude. “I’ll leave you now, I have some questions to put to some people.”  
Katya rose and gave the man a warm smile. “Thanks for everything you’re doing, mate.”  
“Mate?” Peter chuckled at the word. “I’m honoured. Thank you, Katya. You’ve been very brave. It’s appreciated; I know how hard it was.”  
Nothing more was said as he left the room.

Beverly felt nervous as she ushered her family into the flat she shared with Deanna. The counsellor had opted to stay away, choosing to spend some time in a local park and then to enjoy a meal at a nearby restaurant to give the reunited family the privacy they needed.  
Jean-Luc, who had Elly in his arms, smiled as he took in the stunning view of San Francisco. James stood on one side of him, Beverly on the other. “This is lovely,” he remarked. “you chose well.”  
Beverly’s reply was marred by her derisive laugh. “Not my choice, or Deanna’s.”  
He turned; an eyebrow arched in silent query. Beverly gave a dismissive wave of her hand as she explained. “This was chosen for us, Jean-Luc, and while I’m not complaining, it’s just another example of having one’s autonomy stripped.” There followed a lengthy silence, not necessarily uncomfortable, but the underlying tension was clear.

Jean-Luc breached the silence by asking quietly, “Who chose, Beverly?”   
Instead of answering his question directly, Beverly opted to approach it indirectly. “Do you know the identities of all the fleet admirals in Starfleet?”  
“Fleet admirals?” Jean-Luc’s surprise at the query was obvious. “Yes, I think so.”  
“How many are there.?”  
“Two.”

“And is one of those a female who chooses to work in a really big arboretum?”  
“No. The two FAs I know are both male and work at Command.”  
“Ah.” Beverly snorted and gave a shrug. “Well, Deanna and I have been summoned twice to meet with a female FA in a damned jungle.”  
“A jungle?” Jean-Luc responded cautiously.  
“Yes!” The doctor shook her head in disbelief and incredulity. “The meetings place was held in a heavily vegetated space … I’ve absolutely no idea where it was, although we did access it through the Command building.” She gave a wry laugh. “It was a very long walk to get there, though.”   
“And you met a fleet admiral?”

“Yes, and, believe me, I was just as surprised as you to find this person … especially given the circumstances.”  
Jean-Luc gave that some thought as he gently rocked his daughter. “So,” he asked quietly, “what did she want? Why were you and Deanna summoned?”  
Beverly gave a frustrated snort. “This is all so damned convoluted, Jean-Luc. We’d been getting some information from a commander, an officer who’d contacted us after we tried to get some idea of where you and Will had gone. Somehow that contact triggered our summons, but I’ve no idea how that occurred.”  
The doctor sighed in helplessness. “It came out of the blue. The only upside is that the FA gave us assurances that we’d be kept in the loop about your status … you and Will.” she clarified. “At least to a point.”  
Jean-Luc bent and gently placed his daughter on a padded mat on the floor. He then dropped to one knee and said to James, “Would you look after Elly for a little while, James? Maman and I need to talk.”  
The little boy gave his father a wide smile. “Ok, papa. I can do that.”

The captain ruffled his son’s hair and placed a kiss on his brow. “Merci beaucoup.”  
Beverly watched this interaction with great warmth. “You’re such a good father.” she mused to herself. After James had settled down with his sister, Beverly continued their conversation.  
“She gave us reason to hope, Jean-Luc. The commander had been helpful, but the FA actively involved us. Our first meeting with her was guarded, yet it left us encouraged. The next meeting … well as it was to tell us that you’d been successful and were coming home? It was what we’d been hoping for.”  
Jean-Luc nodded, thinking of how hard it must have been for his wife and Deanna.   
“But as to your actual mission?” Beverly sighed with irritation, “We had no idea.”

“And I’m not sure I can elaborate on that, Beverly.” Jean-Luc sighed with frustration. “I’m bound by security restrictions.”  
“Yeah, I get that.” There was bitterness in her tone.  
“Look,” Jean-Luc said gently. “If SFC felt that the mission was critical, then we just have to accept it. We don’t have to like it, though.”  
“Ha!” Beverly blurted. “No, we don’t.”  
“Have you had any further contact with the FA?”  
“No.”

“Then I can only suggest that you probably won’t.”  
“Agreed, but who was she, Jean-Luc? She told us about how there’s now a connection between SFC and the Federation Council. An active connection, a real-time active connection between the two. How is that possible? And when did that start?”  
The man shrugged. “I’ve no idea.” He gave it some rapid thought and added, “All I can say is that it makes sense. There has always existed a difficulty between the Federation Council and Starfleet, as far as implementation of policy was concerned. One was supposed to support the other, but in actuality it was far more common to encounter the opposite. Whatever policy was deemed appropriate sometimes caused great difficulty in application.”  
“Okay, but where does that leave us?” Beverly gestured between them. “Which puppet master do we answer to?”  
“The highest ranked.” Jean-Luc shrugged. “This isn’t about choice, Beverly. As long as we remain in Starfleet, we act on the behest of our superiors.”  
“Yeah.” Beverly’s tone carried her bitterness. “Regardless.”

Jean-Luc moved closer to his wife and noted how she flinched. She did her best to hide it, but it spoke volumes. “The very fact that the fleet admiral chose to involve you and Deanna in the ongoing mission … I can’t help but view that in a positive light.”  
“Fair point.” Beverly conceded. “But it wasn’t as if we could do anything with what she told us.”  
“Agreed. But if you, indeed all of us, are members of Starfleet, we must submit to the decisions made of those above us.”  
“Yeah. As long as we remain in Starfleet.”  
Jean-Luc’s frown carried his worry. “You’re considering your options?”

Beverly shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked harshly. “This whole,” she lowered her voice, “shitshow was because we had to obey. I’ve got to tell you, Jean-Luc, that obedience is wearing precariously thin.”  
Before he could respond, the flat’s communication system activated with a chime. An annoyed Beverly went to the monitor and stabbed it with her finger. The image was not someone she recognised, but their expression was kindly. “Doctor Picard, you are summoned, along with your husband, to a meeting. Please present to these coordinates by 14.30 hours today.”  
There was no opportunity to respond, the monitor went blank. Although she suspected the futility of the attempt, Beverly tried to access the origin of the communique. She was unsuccessful. “Jesus!” she thought angrily, “he’s only just returned home…” The inevitability of the situation caused her to sigh sadly as she turned and said, “Case in point.” she snapped harshly. “We have an appointment. Not that we can refuse it.”  
The captain frowned and asked, “With whom?”

Beverly’s expression showed her anger and derision clearly. “Not specified, but I’d lay odds it’s with that fleet admiral I’ve told you about.”  
“Very well.” Jean-Luc sighed. “But if it leads us to any more information about my mission and what happened to us, that is you, our children and ensign Kurnov, then I can’t help but view it as another positive sign.”  
“Then you’re far more optimistic than I am, Jean-Luc.”  
Beverly gave her husband the details of their upcoming appointment and then contacted Deanna. It was no surprise to hear she had received the same summons.  
“So, I’ll meet you there?” Deanna said, a small smile emerging. Her expression was contagious, causing Beverly to chuckle. “Yup. I’ll identify you by your armour.”  
“Oh!” Deanna feigned shock. “You’ve figured it out? Was it the metal cladding, or the obvious display of weaponry?”  
“Ha!” Beverly barked delightedly. “Both! You should work on your appearance. Advertising your defences is an unwise strategy.”

Deann’s smile was a warm one. “Yes,” she chuckled, “I’ll have to get on to something about to that.”  
It was Jean-Luc who interjected with, “So, we’ll meet you at the appointed time?”  
“Yes, Captain.” Deanna responded respectfully. “I’ll be there.”  
“Good.” he replied curtly. “Perhaps our questions are about to be answered.”  
“I certainly hope so, sir, but be prepared to be disappointed. There’s so much … so much more going on than we can even guess. Whether or not those in charge deem to share the details? That remains to be seen.”  
“Agreed, Counsellor.” Jean-Luc’s reply carried his weariness. “Picard out.”

James and Elly were dropped off at a creche, allowing the adults to arrive at the coordinates at the appointed time. As had occurred before, the group was met by the female commander and a long walk began. At first their progress was at the street level but soon they’d descended into tunnels beneath the city. Beverly and Deanna were somewhat surprised by this. The coordinates had been nowhere near the Command building and yet it seemed obvious they were going back to the strange arboretum.  
Things became further confusing when, after walking what seemed to be a kilometre or two, they were ushered into a small vehicle. There was no driver, the commander remained behind as the silent, open, little car moved quickly through the well-lit subterranean passages, its course remotely controlled via computer.

After perhaps fifteen minutes, Deann’s head suddenly lifted and she murmured quietly, “I’m sensing some powerful minds.”   
Before Jean-Luc or Beverly could ask for details, the counsellor added, “Close. Two, perhaps three individuals … and some others, though not as powerful.”  
The speed of their vehicle began to slow and eventually came to a stop. The tunnel continued into the distance, and behind them, the same. The three were left perplexed.  
“Do we get out?” Beverly asked warily. Jean-Luc looked around, noting there wasn’t much room either side of the car.  
“I don’t think so.” he replied. Deanna’s voice was barely audible as she warned, “They’re approaching.”

Responding in an equally soft whisper, Jean-Luc’s growing tension was obvious as he asked, “From where? Which direction?”   
Deanna’s head turned slowly to her left and slightly up. Jean-Luc stared at the featureless, grey, curved wall. He was about to ask Deanna for more information when a section of the tunnel simply vanished. He heard his wife utter a soft profanity and, despite the tension and the uncertainty he felt, it was hard to suppress the grim smile that wanted to emerge. Trust his wife to react audibly. He’d said the same thing, only it wasn’t aloud.  
“Please forgive this dramatic theatre, Captain Picard,” said the being, suddenly standing before them. “I do assure you, however, it was necessary.”   
The speaker was a female of a species Jean-Luc was unfamiliar with. She was of small stature and seemed to be well-advanced in age. He noted her slight stoop and the thin, claw-like appearance of her hands. Her skin was so fine as to be translucent.  
The captain glanced at Beverly and saw her imperceptible nod, confirming his silent question. The elderly female was the fleet admiral.  
“You have me at a disadvantage, sir.” The words had been spoken softly, yet clearly carried Jean-Luc’s calm authority. His response made the female smile. It was a kindly expression, though in the depths of her eyes the captain could see steely determination.  
“Ah, yes.” Her smile grew. “The introductions.” Despite her stooped appearance, she bowed easily. The gesture surprised Jean-Luc. He didn’t react, though. “By now you would be aware that Doctor Picard and Counsellor Troi have identified me as the fleet admiral they have met twice previously.

Seeing no point in indulging in any verbal sparring or denials, Jean-Luc gave a respectful inclination of his head. However, he didn’t speak. The FA nodded approvingly. “You are remarkable, Captain. Choosing to hedge your bets while you try to work out just what it is that’s going on.”  
“And what is that sir?” Although a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, his eyes were gimlet-like. “Just what is going on?”  
“Much.” The old female sighed. “A great deal, Captain, and it’s been going on for a very long time.”  
Beverly moved to stand closer to her husband. He felt her hand brush his and it gave him a wonderful rush of love and confidence. Deanna gasped as she realised the female felt it too. The old eyes turned to her and a soft voice was heard in her mind. “Yes, Counsellor, we are telepathic.”  
Deanna shot back, “But I didn’t sense anything before. The other times when we met you.” she clarified hastily.  
“Because we blocked you.”  
“We?”  
To respond to Deanna’s silently asked question, the FA refocused on Jean-Luc and spoke aloud. “Your questions will be answered, Captain, we will hold nothing back. The time has come.”  
She gestured with her hands and, as the three entered the now open area of tunnel, he saw there were others. Some the same species as the old female, and others unknown to him.  
One sentence kept repeating in Jean-Luc’s mind. “Time for what?”

The Andorian security officer smiled at Peter. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to decide if the smile was genuine or condescending. Having known this officer for some years, and respecting her, he opted for the former.   
“When you say there’s more, what do you mean, exactly?”  
His question was asked mildly, but there was no doubt it was couched in wariness.  
The blue-tinged female’s smile widened. “Just as I said and nothing else.” she replied cryptically. It was at this point that Peter’s patience began to wear precariously thin. “I’m afraid that won’t do, Lieutenant. I want specifics.” He took a deep, calming breath. “This case is turning into the biggest of my career. It involves the big wigs of the Fed Council, Starfleet, and some very influential people in the private sector. Not only that, but there are critical matters of galactic security in play here. The stuff we’re uncovering…”

“I understand, sir.” the Andorian interrupted, her tone curt. That earned her a cold stare of rebuke. She briefly closed her eyes as her antennae laid back before erecting again. “My apologies, sir.” she began again, respectfully. “It’s just that I’m privy to things you are not.”  
Peter’s mouth opened in shocked surprise, but her raised hands forestalled any protest. “Please, sir, hear me out. I will explain what I can, but ultimately you’re going to have to go to my source,” There was an apologetic smile as she added, “my superiors.”   
Peter’s slight gape and wide eyes showed his disbelief. “I am your superior.” he uttered quietly. “You shouldn’t be in possession of any information from those above you. That is my purview.”  
Again, the female gave an apologetic gesture. “Yes, sir, I’m aware of that. But…” she shrugged, and her antennae jerked back and forth. “you’re not my superior.”  
“My rank says otherwise, Lieutenant.” Peter snarled.  
His emphasis of her rank made her smile wryly. “Yes, sir, that’s how it appears, but that’s not how it actually is.” She frowned as she searched for the right words. “I belong to something … bigger. Something beyond the Federation Council, something beyond Starfleet.” She grimaced with distaste as she continued, “And something far beyond the corrupt moguls of the private sector. There are greater, more powerful forces at work here, sir. I’m part of that, part of a better way.”  
“A better way?” The security head spat. “So, the Federation has been infiltrated? Invaded by an alien species?”

“No, sir. It’s a collaboration, a mutually agreed upon and accepted partnership, carried out for well over a century.”  
“A century?” Peter gasped. “Are you telling me that the Federation … that Starfleet has been corrupted? Used to serve an alien agenda?”  
“No, sir!” The Andorian spat, her patience waning. She strove to regain calm, not an easy thing for such a tempestuous species. “What began so long ago may have once been covert, but for over a hundred years now has been undertaken with full participation of all parties.”  
“Full participation?” Peter said derisively. “That’s what all conquerors claim.”  
The female quickly decided she was getting nowhere and was unlikely to win the human over any time soon. “Look, sir,” she said sharply as she held up her hands. “You need to speak to my superiors.” She sighed and added quietly, “and so will Ms.Kurnov and Dr. Chalmers.”  
“I see.” The security head’s tone carried his confusion and his defeat. “Very well.”  
He didn’t expect the immediate beam out.

When Jean-Luc, Beverly and Deanna entered the wooded area, the two women smiled. The captain saw this and correctly assumed that they had reached the large arboretum that had been described to him previously. “So,” he mused silently, “whatever this is, this seems to be the seat of it.”  
He heard other voices, some aggressive and obviously stressed, others calm and placatory. As the little group entered the clearing, all the voices fell silent.  
As the doctor surveyed the gathered people, Beverly quietly muttered, “What the hell is this?” She noticed Katya and Tom were among the gathered beings and sent them a guarded smile.  
Jean-Luc agreed with his wife query. There was a moderately large group of beings of several species gathered around a long table, incongruously covered with platters of finger foods and frosted jugs of unidentifiable liquids, surrounded by tall, moisture-beaded and frosted glasses. He too saw Katya and made sure he didn’t make eye contact with her.

“Good god, it looks like an outdoor reunion of some sort.” he mused sarcastically but silently. He shook his head and sighed. “Well,” he muttered aloud, “Let’s see what’s going on.”  
Beverly heard her husband’s comment and gave him a gentle nudge as she murmured, “Apart from the FA, you seem to be the next highest ranked officer here.”  
He glanced at the gathered beings to confirm her observation and agreed, taking that as the acknowledgement he needed to speak up. “Can I please speak, please?” he said loudly. That brought a sudden stillness and all eyes turned to him. Yet before he could say anything, the elderly female preempted him. 

“I have been authorised by my people to share all our information, to disseminate, to inform all parties. All those involved,” she made a sweeping gesture with her arm, “about what has been happening...”  
“Yes,” Jean-Luc said coolly, “but about can we be assured we’ll receive all of that information? About what’s been happening?” He emphasised her words, repeating them with suspicion. His jaw clenched as he raised his voice. “What have your people done?” He glared and pointed aggressively. “And for that matter, just who are you?”   
The old female bowed her head, hiding a wry smile. When she addressed the angry human, she controlled the urge to smile and instead presented him with a sombre visage. “Who we are, as a species, isn’t relevant, Captain, we exist in many physical forms and have just as many names. What is relevant is that well over a century ago, my people encountered yours, not humans specifically, but those of the Federation of Planets.”  
A smile escaped her control, but it was an expression of genuine warmth. “And we were impressed. We were extremely impressed by the ideals, by the ethics of your galactic partners’ unity … and we decided that your United Federation of Planets was worthy of assistance.”

Jean-Luc stayed silent as she gathered her thoughts. “That assistance was at a minimum at first, but as your expansion … as more and more worlds opted to join your nascent Federation, we knew our help would have to increase … to grow, to expand.”  
Katya couldn’t contain herself as she commented dryly, “Did the Federation have a choice?”  
“Yes,” the old female replied calmly. “They did … to a point.”  
“Meaning?” Jean-Luc’s query easily carried his anger, though it was carefully controlled.  
“Captain Picard,” the alien female said, with gentle, placation “we had to balance what was occurring around us with what we suspected was going to ensue if we did nothing. We are able to look into the future. Some of the futures we saw were simply unacceptable. We opted for caution, for us, and yes, for you. There were forces at work that none of you were aware of. And that includes those of Vulcan, your initial partner in your grand venture. If what we suspected were allowed to happen, there would’ve been wholesale devastation … wholesale slaughter on a scale I doubt you could imagine.”

Jean-Luc’s already pale skin blanched further. “The Borg?” he said with quiet dread.  
“Yes, that was one factor.” the female acceded with a sad sigh. “But there were others, Captain … other species even more aggressive … and pervasive … than the Borg. We have prevented their interference and in doing so we hope that you, your Federation, will never have to engage with them again, at least not until you’re strong enough to resist those who seek to destroy, all of them, successfully.”  
Beverly raised her hand to gesture to the old female. “But why?” she shook her hand as she sought the right words. “You’ve explained that you foresaw our destruction, but why did you help us? What was in it for you? For your people?”  
Jean-Luc took up the question. “Yes, indeed, why? Did your species have an ulterior motive? Is there a long game in play here?”  
There was an apologetic expression on the female’s face when she replied. “Yes, Captain, there was.” She sighed and pointed a thin, crooked finger at him. “Would you not do anything in your power to preserve your species? Especially if you were given the opportunity to assist an as-yet unfulfilled, but potentially wonderful entity, who you believed would eventually make your existence more probable?”

Jean-Luc’s gaze was steady and uncompromising as he gave his reply. “Yes, I probably would, but it seems your people have far more information about what’s to come than mine.”  
“True.” the old woman chuckled quietly. “And, as much as it may vex you, I cannot elaborate on that, suffice it to say that we knew we had chosen correctly.” Her gentle amusement faded as she sobered considerably.   
“But that is not why you and the others,” she gestured to those gathered, “the presence of you, Doctor Picard, Counsellor Troi and,” she turned slightly and gestured to the couple standing nearby, “and of course, Ms. Kurnov and Doctor Chalmers, was requested.” Jean-Luc’s mouth opened to protest and ask the obvious, but a compelling look from the alien female effectively silenced him.   
“Everyone here,” she swept her wizened arm in an all-encompassing arc. “Everyone here is tied, is bound by the events that drew you in. What happened to you, your family, and Ms. Kurnov on Haven and what followed … the aftereffects, the murders, the investigations … they are all linked.”

She turned to address Katya. “Ms. Kurnov, you and Doctor Chalmers had been working on warp dynamics and in so doing, stumbled upon a new and exciting propulsion system. But Ms. Kurnov, you were only working at GWT because of what happened on Haven.”  
Katya nodded mutely.  
“And you, Doctor Chalmers. You were drawn in by both your mutual discovery with Ms. Kurnov and your friendship with her, your support of her.”   
The female offered a sad smile. “That in turn, brought Sally McCormack into it. Her uncle, Carl McCormack, had already garnered our attention long ago. Thus, what happened when Sally successfully provoked you, Ms. Kurnov; a traumatised and fragile victim, into a predictable reaction, provided us with the ways and means to end what had been occurring for far too long.”  
She turned again to face Jean-Luc, Beverly, and Deanna. “Doctor Picard, we are so sorry about what happened to you and your children. For all our foresight, we had not envisaged the scenario you were caught up in.”   
An audible sigh was heard as she turned her attention to Katya. “You were on Haven to assist the Picard family by helping with their children, Ms. Kurnov. What happened to you as a result is tragic and pains us deeply.”   
She then gestured to Deanna, “And we apologise to you, Counsellor, in being made to stand by and watch as your life partner was sent on a dangerous mission, one inexorably linked to the preceding events. Also, that in being the one to attempt to help, through counselling, your friends. It must have been a very daunting prospect.”

Deanna nodded mutely, words unnecessary.  
The alien’s focus then returned to Jean-Luc. “Then there is you, Captain Picard.” The elderly being offered a deep, sad sigh. “If we could have prevented what ensued, please understand we would have. Everything took an ever-increasing change of course. Lannit Yan and Twenth. Rurke, the broker. We knew the Tholian would be involved somehow …” she sighed again, “yet the scale of his interference, the scope of what he intended …” A sad shake of her head brought silence for a few moments.  
“It’s a lesson, Captain, a timely lesson to us all, that despite the ability to see into the future, what you see may not arrive quite as you expected.” Her expression became determined. “Yet arrive it will. The end result has been achieved and time, and the affects therein, are proceeding as they should.”

“Stop.” Jean-Luc barked as his fingertips rubbed his left temple. “I … we, need more, more details. Who are you? What is your influence over the Federation Council and Starfleet?”  
“Captain,” the female said kindly, but then reconsidered what she’d been about to say, something placatory. Instead she addressed his questions directly. “Think of us as an entity very much like your Federation of Planets. We are a confederation of many worlds, formed over a millennia ago. We found that our collective power afforded us the ability to see some versions of the future. And so, we looked and discovered we no longer existed there, in the many futures we saw, but not all. That gave us the determination to find someone, a single species would’ve sufficed, yet we hoped for more, for us to guide towards an ethical, non-aggressive, non-expansionist entity through which we might preserve our existence. Our choice was carefully considered, we didn’t want to assist empire builders, Captain, but those who chose to expand through peaceful cooperation.” She smiled warmly and gestured towards him. “And we were so happy, and greatly relieved, to find the then fledgling Federation of Planets.” She smiled warmly.

“Now, seeing possible futures is helpful,” the FA continued, “however, as I’ve already told you, how a future is achieved gives no indication of what must occur to get there. Our guidance was based on what we knew of a possible outcome. We gave unedited, uncensored accounts of what we knew to some selected and therefore trusted individuals within the Federation and then, knowing that the precepts and ideals of the Federation would guide you collectively, withdrew and waited, in hope, that what we had foreseen for us, in many futures, would not eventuate.   
“As time wore on and our efforts were rewarded, we began to take a more active role within those entities that served to drive your organisations. Using beings from all the Federations’ member worlds, we inserted facilitators, beings who were willing to work towards a common goal, both for you and for us”  
“One that you determined!” Beverly shouted. “Did we have a choice?”

“Yes, Doctor, you did.” The old female replied firmly. “At no time was anyone coerced. No one was deceived. For those we chose to disclose to, they were given the freedom to reject our help at any time.” The female turned and gestured to the people gathered around the table. “The investigators, our Andorian friend and her superior, who is only now, like you, learning of the reality of everything, worked diligently to find the evidence required to have Carl McCormack charged with multiple offences, because it was important that he be tried under your jurisprudence systems. That he be answerable to those he’d wronged and betrayed.  
“We work with you, not in place of you. Your destiny was always your own. We may have known possible outcomes of the future, but how you, we, got there was up to you.”  
Jean-Luc’s voice was quiet, yet determined when he said, “You still haven’t answered a crucial question. What was in this for you?”  
There was a long, poignant silence before the old female sighed and said softly, “Existence.”

She beckoned to Katya, Deanna, and Tom, and they moved closer to the family. “Over a century ago we began to see futures were we no longer existed. We couldn’t discern how that occurred; all we could do was to keep looking at the futures that had us in them. From those we searched for a future that best mirrored our ideals, those who espoused peace, prosperity, and equity for all those within our sphere of influence, were those we sought. Sadly, there weren’t many to choose from. And of the few who showed their yet unfulfilled promise, who exhibited real potential, the newly formed Federation of Planets was by far the most hopeful.”  
She smiled and Jean-Luc thought he saw the glistening of a tear as she said, “We chose well, Captain. The Federation we found grew quickly and the things you learned along the way …” she gave a respectful nod, “for instance, with no help whatsoever from us, you formulated the Prime Directive. Yes, it may have come about because of some clearly arrogant and misguided actions that had terrible, though unintended consequences, yet you still learned those hard-won lessons. You took the necessary steps to try to prevent such things from ever happening again. It’s instances like that which reinforced the wisdom of our choosing you.” She smiled and her eyes carried her warmth. “And our hopes for you as well as our trust in you.”

“So, there are operatives seeded within Starfleet and the Federation Council?” Jean-Luc’s tone was wary. He was trying to understand but it was difficult.  
The female knew this and strove to reassure him. “That’s one way of putting it, Captain, though words like that imply something covertly underhand, that our intention was deleterious, or sinister.”   
Before Jean-Luc could offer any reaction, the female continued. “It was most definitely not. Consider this, Captain Picard. Not one of those we asked to help us, members from the worlds of the Federation, refused us. Once we’d disclosed our motives and intentions there was unanimous agreement and unequivocal support. We are not malevolent, Captain, we have no political or social agenda. We simply want to exist.”  
Jean-Luc took a deep breath as he considered what she’d said. It was beginning to make sense and he began to see the situation in a kinder, more accepting light. Though he was still somewhat uneasy, he had to admit, grudgingly, that what he was being told seemed to be both benign and acceptable.

He offered a cautious smile. “Can we assume that, in the future you decided upon, that the Federation is doing well? That we are … prospering?”  
“Yes!” The female exclaimed with a chuckle. She curbed her delight and expanded on her comment. “Yes,” she said in a calmer tone. “Indeed, yes, Captain Picard. The Federation we saw in the future had prospered.” She then became sombre. “But there are some things we need to do in the here and now. We feel what happened in the events that lead to here, what happened to you, your family, Ms. Kurnov and, by extension, to Councellor Troi and Doctor Chalmers, should be ameliorated. We can help you all with that, Captain.”  
“Help us?” The wariness had returned.  
“Yes.” The female smiled reassuringly. “There are things we can do to assist with your recovery, Captain.” She then gestured to the others. “All of you.”  
Beverly spoke up. “A memory wipe?”  
“No.” The FA said firmly, but kindly. “We know that would eventually prove to be counterproductive. Humans,” she smiled in wry humour, “don’t like unexplained gaps in their memory. It causes discontent and ultimately, distrust.”  
Beverly’s nod showed her acceptance of the explanation. “Yes, it does.” she affirmed quietly.  
“So,” the FA gestured with her hand, “with that in mind, we can offer something a little gentler, something far more acceptable.”  
“Such as?” Beverly’s skepticism was obvious.

“Nothing pervasive or damaging, Doctor Picard. As with all our interactions, we strive for the less disruptive. No,” she reassured as she smiled, “we won’t do anything that damages.”  
“But we have only your word for that.” Beverly sighed. “Are we to assume that you’re offering some kind of psychological manipulation? Some way for us,” she gestured to her loved ones and friends, “to cope with the fallout from what happened to us?”  
Deanna spoke up then. She was cautiously positive about what the alien was saying, but agreed with Beverly’s need for clarification. “Yes,” she affirmed, “just what is entailed. And will there be any residual effects of what you intend to do?”  
“We won’t do anything that causes damage.Yes,” the female reaffirmed and then sighed as she searched for the right words. Having found them she smiled.. “though not manipulation per se, we have the ability to soften your memories, to assist in making those memories easier to bear and therefore less traumatic.”

Beverly first looked to her husband and then to Deanna and Katya. She received cautious nods. “Ok,” she said warily, “what’s involved?”  
“Very little.” The FA’s smile was warm and confident. “We simply connect, through those of our wide variety of species who possess the ability, to your minds. Once that connection is established, it’s possible to take the memories of your trauma and …” she rolled her hand to find the right words, “to take the distress from them.” She opened her hands in a giving gesture. “To take away their power. To make the memories bearable. Not nearly so damaging.”  
Beverly looked at Jean-Luc and received a smile of acceptance. She then looked att Deanna and Katya and garnered the same reaction. On finding acceptance from Deanna, the doctor nodded to the FA.  
“Ok,” she smiled cautiously. “it seems we’re all on board.”

“I’m gratified.” the old female said, her smile appreciative. “Very well. Once your children have been brought here, we can begin.”  
Jean-Luc stepped forward and said barked firmly, “Our children?”  
The FA bowed her head respectfully. “Yes, Captain Picard, your children.” She held up a hand to silence his predictable protests. “We value and cherish our offspring just as much as you value and cherish yours, Captain, and we know with certainty that what your children went through as you and your wife struggled with the events, that they would’ve been affected. Even your little daughter, so young as she is, would not have been untouched. We have the wherewithal to help them too.”  
Beverly’s comment was guarded, yet hopeful. “And there’s no residual aftereffects? They wouldn’t be aware?”

The elderly female tilted her head, a frown forming as she considered the question. “Not entirely.” The statement was obviously a cautious one. “Our goal here is to make your memories far easier to cope with and in doing so, we are confident that you, all of you, will be able to recover rapidly. As for your children, of the two of them, it is your son who will benefit the most, yet your daughter will not be without a positive outcome.” The FA smiled reassuringly. “As I’ve already said, we don’t intend to remove any memories, rather, we will simply strive to negate the power, the effects of those memories so that everyone involved can overcome the impediments that accessing such undiluted memories would incur.”  
Jean-Luc nodded slowly as he processed what had been said. After sharing a look with his wife and receiving a nod of acceptance, he turned his attention to Katya. “Ms. Kurnov?” he said respectfully. “I welcome your input.”  
She gave her former captain a long look before shrugging. “Yeah,” Katya sighed with acceptance. “I suppose you do.” She took a moment and then shrugged again. “I don’t want to continue to hate you, Picard. On one level I accept what happened wasn’t you fault … but then there are these…” she stabbed at her temples with stiff fingers, “these fucking memories!” 

She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds before expelling it slowly, using the time to regain her composure. “If something can be done to help with that, to strip the images, the experiences of their power, then yeah, I’m all for it.”  
Jean-Luc looked to and received positive responses from Deanna and Tom. He nodded and refocused on the old FA. “It seems we have consensus.”  
The elderly FA was about to say something before Beverly interrupted. “Can we be assured that no other memories will be accessed?”  
“Oh, yes, Doctor Picard!” The alien was quick to reply. “This isn’t about intelligence gathering or an invasion of any privacy. Only the specific memories, those that are unique to your experiences over the relevant events will be accessed. You have my word, nothing else will be seen or touched.”

Beverly nodded and gave a tentative smile. “Well, ok then.”  
“Excellent.” The FA gestured to the table. “We’ve no doubt you’d all like to speak with each other. While we await the arrival of your children, please avail yourselves of some refreshments and seek each other’s input.”  
As the three friends approached the gathering, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but think, “How utterly bizarre.”

“So, the Tholian and Lannit Yan are both dead?” Jean-Luc’s tone clearly carried his mixed emotions.   
“Yes, Captain.” The FA confirmed as she sighed and shook her head. They were standing to one side, conferring quietly as they watched the others grazing at the table. “Though I’m saddened by the necessity of the actions, I cannot find it within me to regret it or, indeed, to lament their passing.”   
She sighed again and opened her thin hands in a gesture of helplessness. “The Tholian had become too powerful, too enmeshed in his power and thoroughly addicted to it. There was no way to disconnect him completely from his network. It had taken him almost all of his life to create it, his reach was both extraordinary and exceptionally dangerous.”  
Jean-Luc, chewing thoughtfully on a delicately sliced piece of fruit, nodded his agreement. “Indeed,” he murmured, “I was astonished at just how far his reach extended and I was only privy aware of a small portion of it. I’ll probably never know the true scope of his influence.”

By his wry tone and the speculative look, he gave the old female, she understood his comment was actually a tacitly posed question. She smiled enigmatically and inclined her head. “I agree, Captain.” she deflected him elegantly. “I doubt you’ll ever know … or have the need to.”  
Jean-Luc’s inclined head signaled his acceptance of her reply as she addressed his unspoken question. He may not have liked it, but if it had to be that way, then so be it. Any reply was better than none.  
“And then there was Lannit Yan.” The FA continued seamlessly, he tone carried her revulsion. “How such a creature could exist,” she said quietly as she shook her head. “his people, his and Twenth’s,” she amended, “they’re an enlightened species, ones who value’s life, respects it…”  
“Anomalies exist in all species, sir.” Jean-Luc interrupted gently. “In a violent species, a perceived anomaly would be an individual who espoused non-violence.” He frowned as he continued, “With Lannit Yan and Twenth it was a worst-case scenario. Two such rarities among their people meeting and teaming up? That was always going to be an appallingly deadly combination.”

“So many suffered at their hands.” The FA lamented and then placed her hand on Jean-Luc’s forearm. “But I don’t have to tell you that. You of all people, you, and your family … Ms. Kurnov …”  
The captain gently placed his hand over hers. “That is in the past and we’re all looking forward to being able to begin our recovery.” He smiled kindly and then said quietly, “Had Lannit Yan taken females? Females compatible with human males for … breeding?”  
The FA’s expression showed her obvious concern. “You need not worry about that, Captain Picard.”  
“No!” he spat quietly but heatedly. “I do worry! Answer my question. Tell me!” He strove to control his anger and added after a few seconds in a calmer tone, “Please, sir.”  
Belatedly chagrined, the old female curtailed the initial irritation his reaction had caused. “He had taken females from several worlds, Captain,” she said gently, knowing the confirmation would pain him. “at the behest of the broker, but of course the original orders came from the Tholian.”  
“Are they safe? Or did he … get to them?”

“He did not.” The old female stated quietly but firmly. In a softer tone she continued, “With Rurke’s assistance we found them and repatriated all of them. None were harmed … at least not physically.”  
“You’ll help them?” Jean-Luc’s voice was shaking. “Help with their memories?”  
“Yes, that’s already in hand.”   
Several long moments passed as Jean-Luc struggled to regain his composure. Once he felt steadier, he took a deep breath and asked, “And what about Rurke? You haven’t mentioned him. Is he dead too?”  
He was surprised by herthe reply.  
“No, Captain, he is not.”

“Why the hell not?” Jean-Luc’s raised voice caught the attention of the gathered people. He saw the warning in the FA’s eyes and moderated his tone. “Why not, sir?”  
She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Captain,” she began cautiously, “you accept that eliminating people is a last resort? That if possible, we would always strive to rehabilitate, rather than …”  
“Execute?” Jean-Luc’s tone was clearly derisive.  
“Captain!” the stern rebuke in the elderly female’s tone was clear. He reacted reluctantly, offering a small inclination of his head by way of apology and acceptance of her censure.   
“Captain,” the FA said more evenly, “if we can avoid the termination of individuals, of course we will. You seem to be alluding to this activity as an unacceptable action, yet you had no trouble accepting that we had eliminated the Tholian and Lannit Yan. What are you saying? Are you condemning us, or are you angry that we didn’t go far enough?”

“I …” Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly as he sorted through his tumultuous emotions. Having found firmer ground he gave a contrite smile. “My apologies, sir. This …” he offered a vague gesture with his hand, “is difficult for me.”  
“And that is entirely understandable, Captain.” The FA sighed. “We found that Rurke was a pawn. Not that he was unwilling, far from it. He was all too willing and able to carry out the Tholian’s orders, his employer’s. However,” the old female sighed, “there is a distinct difference in Rurke’s attitude to his employment we’ve not found in others either employed by the Tholian or coerced by him to do his bidding. Rurke had a conscience.”  
The protest rose quickly in Jean-Luc and the FA was effective in forestalling it. “Yes, we know he could be utterly ruthless,” she said firmly. “Utterly deadly,” she conceded quietly before continuing. “yet he had personal standards. There are many instances where he openly defied the Tholian’s orders. Many instances where he was guided by his own sense of propriety.”

“His own sense of propriety?” Jean-Luc’s tone was both incredulous, scathing, and derisive. “He was one of the most effective, and one of the main facilitators of the Tholian’s agenda! How on earth can you…”  
“Because he showed he had a moral standard, Captain!” she interrupted urgently. “Yes, it’s incontrovertible that Rurke was the Tholian’s go-to operative, the one he turned to get the more difficult jobs done, and yet Rurke demonstrated, time and time again and again, the discretion with which to use his talents.”  
The elderly woman sighed with exasperation. “He had his own standard, a code, if you will. Yes, there’s no doubt he tortured and killed, but not indiscriminately. If he felt … if he knew that a target was undeserving of whatever the Tholian had decreed, then the target was given the opportunity to offer whatever it had to escape the worst of Rurke’s attentions.”  
The FA sighed and gave a wave of her hand. “The Tholian was aware of this, of course, but as long as none of those Rurke spared caused any further trouble for him, the Tholian was willing to let it slide.” The FA smiled as she said, “What is it you humans say? He turned a blind eye?”

“Unlikely.” Jean-Luc muttered angrily. “I seriously doubt anything slid past the Tholian, that he turned a blind eye. It’s far more likely that whoever Rurke spared, died later at other’s hands.”   
“Perhaps.” The FA agreed with a sigh, “but doesn’t that give an opportunity to scrutinise Rurke’s level of complicity? Look, Captain,” the old female shook her head. “we’re not suggesting that Rurke wasn’t responsible for his fair share of torture and, yes, killings. However, there are ample examples of Rurke refusing to carry out his employer’s orders with regard to killing those he'd been ordered to. Rurke existed in a very exclusive group, one we’re in the process of dismantling. He alone among those employed to carry out the Tholian’s orders showed again and again that he was unwilling to kill indiscriminately.”  
The FA sighed frowned as she shook her head. “I suppose what I’m saying is that he only killed those who truly deserved it.”

The scowl on Jean-Luc’s face showed his disbelief. “So, you’re giving the Tholian’s hit squad a ranking? You’re saying that Rurke gets a free pass because he had some kind of quasi-moral code? That, sir, is utterly ludicrous! He was a torturer and a killer.”  
“Yes, he was.” The FA agreed with exasperation. “We aren’t denying that.” She tightened the grip she’d continued to hold of Jean-Luc’s forearm. “But there are levels of complicity, Captain, and if others see that someone like Rurke has been granted mercy by those who seek to end the kind of power and infiltration the Tholian enjoyed, then perhaps more might come forward and those in the wings … those who think they can find another employer like the Tholian, perhaps they might think twice before embarking on such a … short-lived engagement.” The FA smiled grimly. “We’re watching now, Captain. We don’t intend to allow the likes of the Tholian to ever rise to prominence again.”  
“Lofty goals.” Jean-Luc replied with a heavy note of sarcasm.

“Agreed, but our very existence depends on it.” the old female sighed as she replied with fatalism. “We chose this version of the future, Captain. If we’re to see the future we hope to achieve, then we must do what we think is necessary to bring that about. And yet we must do so ethically. It would be extremely hypocritical of us to engineer events to only serve us, don’t you think? Yes, the end result of our actions may well favour us, but we’re well aware that we share this timeline. We have your future, the Federations’ future, in mind as well as ours, Captain.”

Jean-Luc gave the female a long look before asking quietly, “What happens in the other futures … the other timelines, the ones you didn’t choose?”  
“Do you really want me to answer that, Captain?”  
He gave the question some thought before shaking his head in an expression of irritation and frustration. “No, I don’t!” he spat heatedly. “Yet,” he sighed, finding a calmer note, “I must admit there is a part of me that wants to know.”  
“Ah,” the FA murmured gently. “the curiosity humans are so well known for.” She offered a kind smile. “This is the timeline you exist in, Captain, in the here and now. Trust us, trust that we will take you into a future you can take pride in.”  
Whatever Jean-Luc may have said in response was cut short by the announcement of the arrival of his children. He was committed. He had given his trust to the aliens. There was no going back now.


	12. Chapter 12

The Tholian stared at the monitor, a deep frown creasing his otherwise smooth brow. His ship was now close enough to detect Rurke’s vessel and, although at the extreme limit if his ship’s sensors, the Tholian was wondering if his suspicions of another ship near Rurke’s might not be unfounded. With that thought uppermost in his mind, the Tholian slowed his ship’s approach and altered course. He would treat this like a stalking exercise. Rurke’s ship was now the prey and the Tholian meant to take it.

The junior officer suddenly stiffened, causing its superior to turn its head quickly and say sharply, “What is it?”  
The subordinate pointed a gloved hand at the screen embedded in the console. “It’s the Tholian, sir. He’s altered speed and course.”  
Making a flicking gesture with a gloved hand, the ranking officer barked. “Put in on the main viewer.” As that was done, the officer added, “Show the previous flight path and the new approach vector.”  
As both officers studied the displayed information, the older officer muttered, “He’s become skittish. I’d say his ship’s sensors have only just picked up the broker’s ship. That would explain the sudden alteration in course and speed.”  
“Yes, I’d have to agree with that, sir.” The younger officer replied. “But doesn’t this…” it gestured to the main viewer, “mean that he knows we’re here? I’m not suggesting he has actually detected our presence, but he may have intel we’re unaware of that’s given him cause for concern.”

“Hmm, yes, that’s a possibility, I suppose, but it’s more likely he’s just being cautious. Being who he is, wariness would be hard-wired into him. I seriously doubt he’d make a direct approach to anything in any situation.” The senior officer nodded and glanced at a small screen to its left. “I see the pilot’s engaged the cloak.”  
“Yes, sir. The transfer has taken place and the withdrawal should commence within moments.”  
“Excellent. I think it’s time we baited our trap. Send the appropriate information and make sure that the readouts show the proper location. The Tholian will know where, on the broker’s ship, he and Lannit Yan are. If our virtual effigies appear anywhere else, I doubt we’ll see the Tholian. He’ll abort and be gone in the blink of an eye.”  
“Yes, sir.”

There followed a few seconds as the junior officer inputted the relevant commands. It then sat back and gave its superior a nod, and a small smile could be seen through its faceplate. “Virtual effigies sent, sir. Even with the Tholian’s high-grade tech, he won’t know that what’s being shown on his monitors is a lie. That’s something he’ll discover when he boards Rurke’s ship.”  
“We hope.” The elder being corrected and then sighed. “Confidence is one thing. Overconfidence, however, can be fatal, just as underestimating your adversary can be. The Tholian has been at the top of his particular trade for an exceptionally long time … and he’s still there for a very good reason.”  
The junior officer bowed its head. “Understood, sir.” After checking the monitor again, the younger being added, “The pilot’s ship is now completely cloaked and has withdrawn, sir.”  
“Thank you.” The reply made the junior officer’s eyes widen. The superior was rarely, if ever, polite. “Good.” The older being grumbled, returning to its usual gruff demeanor. “Now we wait.”

The pilot had ignored Will three times as the acting captain threw his questions. It wasn’t until Jean-Luc barked, “You will answer my first officer!” that the pilot sighed theatrically and only just managed to stop the eye roll that threatened. It turned and gave an obviously irritated scowl. That facial expression was easy to read.  
“Fine.” It spat and sent a glare at Will. Holding up a three-fingered hand, it extended one digit. “One. You asked if those held on this ship are in a totally secured facility. Yes, they are. Two.” It held up the second finger. “You asked if either or both of you will have the opportunity to question the captives. “Yes, however, that will only be with strict conditions.” Will opened his mouth to speak, but the pilot shook its head and tapped the third finger. “And three. You asked where we will be taking the prisoners. You don’t need to know that and I’m not authorised to tell you anyway.”

“Unacceptable.” Will growled. He would’ve said more but the pilot interrupted. “Be that as it many, sir, nevertheless, that is how it will be.”  
Jean-Luc stepped forward and gathered his considerable captain’s persona around him. “As Acting Captain Riker stated, that is unacceptable. We have successfully captured two wanted felons and, in the process, put our lives on the line. And, not to state the obvious, but I have been used as bait to achieve that outcome. I think we more than deserve to know where the captives are to be taken.”   
The pilot opened its mouth to speak, but this time it found itself cut off by the increasingly angry captain. “And as for interrogating the prisoners, you can shove your conditions up your arse.”  
It was said quietly, almost matter of fact, yet the pilot had no doubt that, should it attempt to deny the human’s intentions, physical harm may well ensue. Its anus tightened reflexively.  
Having given urgent consideration of the situation, the pilot decided discretion was indeed the better part of valour. Besides, it was just a player in the unfolding drama. It had no more control over events than the two humans standing before it. All their strings were in the hands of the puppet masters.

Adopting a more submissive demeanour, the pilot offered an apologetic, shallow bow and clasped its hands near its chest. “Of course, Captain Picard, I meant no offence. It is only natural that you and…” It gestured respectfully to Will, “and Acting Captain Riker, wish to – ahem – interview the captives.” A perfunctory smile made an appearance before vanishing. “And I’m sure the …” a quiet cough was heard, “advice I offer will be viewed in the spirit in which it is given…”  
Jean-Luc arched one eyebrow. “Advice?” he queried with quiet menace.  
“Oh, nothing too draconian, I assure you.” The pilot’s insincere smile made another brief appearance. “But it would be best if you’d consider following a few simple guidelines?”  
Jean-Luc allowed a few heavy seconds to pass before giving Will a long look, tacitly seeking his approval. The younger man appreciated the gesture, the silent acknowledgement that the mission was still Will’s to command.  
“Well,” Will said, “it depends on the advice.” Before Haf could respond, Will added, “But if these guidelines are not too restrictive, then yes, we’ll abide by them.”  
“Excellent!” The pilot exclaimed exuberantly. “I will explain. The prisoners are in separate holding cells, out of earshot of each other. The force fields that confine them may not be deactivated under any circumstances. Both captives are naked and will remain so. Also, both have undergone a deep body scan to ensure there are no hidden devices, organic or otherwise.”   
Another smile made a brief appearance, though this time there was some warmth in it. “And lastly, gentlemen,” This time it was Jean-Luc the pilot addressed, “please refrain from reacting to any … provocation. I’ve no doubt that both Rurke and Lannit Yan will seek to trigger you. Don’t let them.”

By the cold, steely look Jean-Luc sent, the pilot understood that although the older human accepted the warning, it was, nevertheless, unwelcome. However, even under the burden of deep emotional turmoil, Jean-Luc’s ingrained sense of duty shone through.  
“I understand.” he muttered quietly. He then turned to Will and took a cleansing breath. “I would like to shower, shave and present myself in uniform, Number One. I hope that meets with your approval?”  
“Yes, Captain, of course.” Will smiled kindly. “As a matter of fact, I could do with a shower and a tidy up too. How about we meet back here, on the bridge in say, half an hour?”  
Offering a nod, Jean-Luc raised a small smile. “Agreed.” He turned to leave and then hesitated and turned back. “And thank you, Will.”  
The younger man smiled as inside his heart clenched in sympathy. He knew his captain was preparing himself for facing both Rurke and Lannit Yan. By presenting himself clean, shaved and in uniform, he was donning a kind of armour, a shield behind which he hoped to gain protection and which, he hoped, would hide his fear. Will pitied and admired his friend and captain in equal measures.

On the hidden ship, the older officer offered a soft chuckle. “He’s coming closer.”  
The junior officer nodded. “Yes, sir. And behaving like the predator he is.”  
“Indeed. His approach is textbook stalking behaviour. It is easy to imagine an image of a predatory animal stalking an oblivious prey. It’s like something out of a nature-in-the-wild vid.”  
“Do you think he’ll make his move quickly, or lurk to ensure his … privacy?”  
There was a lengthy silence before the superior officer sighed with frustration. “That I cannot say. As I’ve said previously, the Tholian has endured as long as he has because he’s cautious. All we can hope is that our ruse works as we hope.”  
The junior officer nodded pensively. “Yes, and we know that our best, our finest minds have engineered this.”  
“Of course, but we can’t assume that our best minds are better than whatever he can access. That would be the ultimate hubristic conceit.”  
“Yes, sir. But I have complete faith in our people. To doubt their expertise would be to doubt our activities in relation to this mission.”  
The cold look the superior officer sent spoke volumes. “We don’t have the luxury of doubt. Our job, our purpose is to obey those who know better. Who know what we do not.”  
Chagrined, the junior officer offered a shallow bow. “Of course, sir.”  
The alien captain turned its attention back to the monitors and the image of the Tholian’s approaching ship. “Come on,” it murmured, “there’s nothing to fear, your prey hasn’t seen you.”

Beverly’s gaze was distant as she watched James playing in the park, her mind light years away. Elly had been fed and changed and was happily amusing herself on a padded mat, laid on the grass. The two friends had opted to spend some time in the late afternoon sunshine to dissect what the fleet admiral had told them. Deanna chose an oblique way to bring the doctor back to the present. “Elly’s sitting up well now.”  
Beverly started and shifted her focus, quickly gathering her thoughts. Yes,” she replied, her expression souring. “Yet another milestone Jean-Luc’s missed.”  
Deanna sighed and then shrugged. “That’s only relevant if you make it.”  
The incredulous look Beverly gave showed her disbelief and anger. “Only relevant if I make it?” She scowled and gestured to both children. “So, tell me, Deanna. Where do you want me to start with the kids’ milestones he’s missed?”  
“That’s not fair, Beverly.”

Deanna would have said more, but the doctor held up a hand, effectively silencing her. “I know.” she admitted quietly. “But right now, I want a head to kick, and as I can’t kick the fleet admiral’s head, it has to be Jean-Luc’s.”  
A soft chuckle preceded Deanna commenting, “Well, at least no physical harm ensues.” She sobered then and sighed. “It was good to find out the best the Federation and Starfleet can offer is assisting.”  
“Yes.” Beverly sighed, before sending James a wave as he negotiated a small slide. “And we can only hope that our best is equal, or better than those our partners are facing.”  
“I think that the very fact a fleet admiral, one who’s so under the radar, chose to involve us is a good sign, Beverly. I can’t help but view that in a positive light. They have far too much to lose by alienating us. Like that commander said, we’ve both got a lot of friends in Starfleet.”

Beverly’s tone was bitter as she replied, “So you’re saying the only reason we’ve been taken into the fold is to placate us? Just in case the mission goes tits up and we start making a noise about it?”  
“No.” Deanna replied coolly. “What I’m saying is that I think they view the mission favourably, that they think it’s going to succeed.”   
Beverly was going to add waspishly that a successful outcome may not include the survival of those who achieved it. However, she decided it was moot. Deanna was just as aware … and worried … about the situation as she was. “Ok,” the doctor sighed as she conceded. “You’ve got a point.”  
The women watched James for a while before Beverly stood and stretched. “If what the fleet admiral said was true, we might know more soon. How about we head back to our new digs and settle in for the night?”  
Deanna stood and smiled as she watched her friend scoop up her daughter, and give her a hug and a kiss. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Our luggage should’ve been transferred by now.”  
With James holding his mother’s hand and Elly safely nestled in her carry pouch, the little group packed up and left the park.

The Tholian had brought his craft to a halt. The vessel hung motionlessly in the cold, black void of space as he stared at the monitor in front of him. Rurke’s ship was just as still … seemingly presenting no threat and yet the Tholian could not shed the feeling of disquiet that nagged him. Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t determine what it was that felt so wrong … so out of place.  
With an irritated snort, he ran the scans again and received exactly the same result as the three pervious scans. Both of his employees were where they should be. In his mind’s eye the Tholian saw the hidden room with its array of torture devices and the table. Thinking of that apparatus brought a cold smile and, surprisingly, a shudder.   
Rurke had designed it and had sourced a discreet builder to create it, all the Tholian had done is provide the funds. And the adaptive piece of furniture had paid for itself many times over. But the memories he possessed of the screams of agony, the pleading for mercy, the pitiful begging of those unfortunate enough to find themselves fixed to it … he shuddered again and then gave himself an admonishing shake of his head.   
“You must be getting old,” he muttered sourly. “having any pity for those who have wronged me in some way is pointless. If they’d been innocent, they would never have found themselves in Rurke’s hands.”  
He gave himself a mental shake and refocused his attention on the problem at hand. He narrowed his eyes as he peered at the monitor screen. “I’ve never ignored my gut instincts before, and I don’t intend to do so now.” Having come to his decision, he pushed his chair back and ordered the ship’s computer to prime the vessel’s engines for a massive acceleration.

On the hidden ship the senior officer, who had been studying the same readouts as his junior officer, stood abruptly, and barked, “He’s going to jump! Disable his propulsion systems!”  
The younger being was already arming their weapons before the ship’s commander had spoken. Seemingly out of nowhere, four iridescent blue beams shot out of the inky darkness of space and impacted with devastating force on the Tholian’s ship. Because it had occurred just as the vessel was about to jump to slipspace, the damage was far worse than had been intended.  
Both officers on the hidden ship spoke at the same time.  
“His propulsion system has become irreparably unstable!”  
“Get him off that ship!”

The senior officer’s command cut through the frantic thought processes of the subordinate being. Its fingers danced across the console automatically, even as the order had been given. The blast shield of the hidden ship activated instantly to protect it from the concussive shock wave and following debris of the suddenly obliterated ship.  
Seconds after the hidden ship had ceased shaking, the leading officer said with quiet disbelief, “Did we get him in time?”  
The junior officer turned slowly, and its smile spoke volumes. “Yes, sir. He’s being held in stasis on the transporter pad.  
“He can’t move? He can’t activate any device, any weapon … any type of self-termination trigger?”  
“No, sir, he cannot.”  
The leader regained its seat and offered a savage smile. “Good. Got you, you bastard.”

The security team member watched the approaching person with narrowed eyes, employing a practiced scrutiny. She had been part of her team for five years now and had become comfortable and confident with both the team and her place in it.  
She could afford a slightly less than razor-sharp vigilance, as the person, walking with a calm, yet focused step, had to have gone through three security checkpoints to get this far. Their credentials, ID and reason for visiting would’ve been thoroughly vetted and any doubt, even the slightest hint of suspicion would have had the individual immediately escorted from the building.   
The officer also knew that there was only one way into this floor and wing of the facility. All others had been sealed off and were well guarded. As a further security measure, there was a dampening field enclosing the entire floor, preventing anyone transporting in. 

The security officer straightened her already ramrod stiff spine, tucked in her chin, and softly cleared her throat, ready to ask the standard, and no doubt superfluous, identity questions.  
She never got the chance; the words didn’t leave her mouth. Instead she gaped momentarily, a look of shock and surprise quickly fading as her well-toned and usually solid body slowly crumpled to the floor. The neat hole in the middle of her forehead leaked no blood or brain matter even though the injury went right through her head, leaving a small dark smudge on the wall. The killing beam had cauterised the wound exceptionally well.   
The being cast a dispassionate glance at the body as he stepped around it. His mind was already shifting to the next step in the mission. The layout of the room had been memorised and he was confident his target would be lying in bed, just as the staff member had admitted under torture to him only 30 minutes previously, and just as he’d also been assured that the target’s boyfriend was out of the room procuring some food.  
He knew that that body would be found, eventually. Someone was bound to open the utility cupboard once the alarm was sounded. Way too late, of course. 

With the extra meds in her system, the assassin felt confident his target would give no trouble. He smiled grimly as he felt sure she’d never know what hit her.  
He didn’t bother to knock, there was no need to pretend he was a staff member. The door eased open to his gentle push and he entered the room with arrogance born of well-earned self-confidence.   
The weapon in his left hand was still warm from its recent use. He glanced at it as he raised his hand, yet again admiring its elegant form. For something so deadly, it had a beauty that never ceased to amaze and inspire him. “It’s a pity she’ll never know that her death was caused by something so utterly gorgeous.” He thought silently. His thumb caressed the firing button in an almost sensuous way as he indulged in drawing out the moment.   
Katya Kurnov’s death would make him very wealthy indeed, although he was acutely aware of the care he’d have to take in ensuring he lived to enjoy it. The man who’d hired him was utterly ruthless and very well connected.   
He was nodding to himself when he caught a tiny movement in his peripheral vision to his right. He flinched and ducked, quickly turning to face whatever it was he’d seen. As his eyes perceived the stuffed toy, his mind offered up the obvious question. Why is that on the floor? The incongruous query wasn’t answered as, from his left, a crystal glass vase impacted with serious force under his ear and exploded in a pretty display of chunky bits and pieces, each bit casting lovely prismatic light from the sunlight streaming in through the window. 

Tom stood open-mouthed, staring at the unconscious being, sprawled on the floor, a growing stain of urine darkening the would-be assassin’s light grey trousers.   
A sleepy-eyed Katya sat up in her bed, pushing absently at her untidy hair. “What the fuck?” she murmured. Her eyes slipped slowly from Tom to the male on the floor of her room. Her tongue appeared to wet her lips before she asked, “Tom? Tom, what’s happening?”  
Her voice broke through Tom’s torpor. He blinked once and shut his mouth. He then took a deep, shaky breath. “I was going to get something to eat, but before I went, I thought I’d…” He took another deep breath to steady himself. “I was coming out of the bathroom … I’d got rid of the old flowers and washed the vase, and he…” Tom pointed at the man, “just walked in, as bold as brass.”  
Tom, trembling and dry mouthed, went to Katya and sat on her bed, his nose wrinkling as he smelled the man’s urine. “I thought he was a staff member, you know, maybe admin?” He gestured to the man again. “No uniform, you know?”  
Katya nodded her reply, trying to keep up. “But then,” Tom continued, “he raised his hand and I saw that thing.” Tom pointed to the weapon, now lying on the floor under the window.  
“Get it.” Katya blurted.  
“What?” Tom was confused. “Get what?”  
Katya’s reply was vehement. “The fucking weapon!”

“Oh!” Tom exclaimed, getting off the bed. “Oh, yes, of course.”  
Katya shook her head and then rubbed her face with her hands. “I’ve got to focus.” she muttered. After taking a deep breath she allowed her, albeit brief, Starfleet training to surface. “Ok. So hit the alert button.”  
Tom, now standing and staring with dread at the weapon, sitting uncomfortably in his hand, cast a look at his friend and saw her pointing to a large red button on the wall. He walked stiffly, still in shock, and hit it. A small red light began strobing above Katya’s bed and both occupants heard the distant sound of an alarm.   
“Is that us?” Tom asked.  
“I suppose.” Katya replied and then pointed to the unconscious man. “Is he dead?”  
Tom’s shrug spoke volumes. “I … I … ah … don’t know.”  
“Check him.” Katya’s eyes had cleared. She was shaking off the sedation, although she understood her clarity was momentary. “If he’s got a pulse, tie his hands and feet.”  
The reply was tentative. “Ok.” Tom said as he laid the weapon on the bed somewhat gingerly and didn’t see Katya snatch it up. He approached the man and pressed his fingers against his neck. A frown developed as he reported, “There’s a carotid pulse, but it’s not very strong.”  
“Doesn’t matter.” Katya growled. “Tie the fucker up.”

The door suddenly opened, and two nurses entered, accompanied by a security team member. Katya raised the weapon but saw that a Starfleet weapon was trained on her head. She opened her hand and let the weapon drop to the bed, and then raised her hands. She said nothing. Tom too stood and raised his hands, while awkwardly pointing at the assassin.  
“He came to kill Katya.”  
The security team member moved quickly, scooping up the weapon and covering everyone in the room. With a curt nod to the nurses, he indicated they could proceed with their tasks.  
“I’m ok.” Katya muttered to the nurse as she was scanned while the other nurse scanned the man on the floor. “Serious cranial injury,” she reported, “possible brain trauma. We need to get him to emergency care immediately.”  
The security team member shook his head. “Nope.” he said emphatically. “No one leaves this room until we authorise it.”  
“But…” the nurse kneeling beside the now snoring man protested. “his life is in danger.”  
“Too bad.” was her reply. “He got in, there may be others. Until we know any different, we all stay right where we are.”  
The nurses looked at each other and the one beside the bed shrugged. “Not our call.” he muttered. The kneeling nurse and stood before casting a regretful look at the unconscious male. “I hope he makes it, then.”  
From the bed Katya said softly, “I don’t.”

Jean-Luc Picard made a conscious effort to appear unruffled. He stood, Will Riker by his side, as he gazed dispassionately at the naked male lying on the cold, metal bed at the back of the cell. A long, tense silence ensued, the grim battle of wills broken when Will said, “You’re in a lot of trouble.”  
Rising with assured grace, Rurke gained his feet and stared at the two humans, his expression slightly mocking. “A lot of trouble?” he asked, a smirk lurking. “For what?”  
Outrage welled quickly in Jean-Luc and it was a struggle to contain it. He succeeded, but it cost him dearly. “You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong?” he asked mildly.  
Rurke shrugged. “Not really, no.” Before the Starfleet officers could respond, Rurke added, “I was hired to do a job. I did it. If you have any objection to that then I respectfully suggest you talk to my employer.”   
Will frowned and ran his hand through his beard, seeming to give considered thought to the declaration. “So,” he began quietly, “you’re contending that because you were employed to carry out crimes, then the blame must lie with whoever employed you, not you personally, the one who actually perpetrated the crimes?”

“Yes.” Rurke smiled with disarming charm. “That’s it exactly. If I’d not been employed, then I couldn’t, I wouldn’t have carried out any …” His smile widened and he stared directly at Jean-Luc, “infractions of the law.”  
Jean-Luc’s voice rose in anger as he said incredulously, “Infractions? What happened to my family … to ensign Kurnov…” his voice softened as he added, “to me… were not mere infractions…”  
Rurke shrugged again and opened his hands, seeming to plead. “I didn’t do anything to you, your family or Ensign Kurnov, Captain Picard. Either speak to my employer or speak to Lannit Yan.”  
“You had my…” Jean-Luc blurted but then caught himself and swallowed dryly. He continued far more calmly, “You were in possession of biological material that didn’t belong to you … that was … stolen from the owner.”  
Rurke glanced quickly at Will and saw his confusion. He grinned inwardly. “Your biological samples, Captain?” he asked with quiet triumph. “You mean all that semen of yours I had?”  
Jean-Luc blanched and gave a nod, though he didn’t mean to. “Yes.” he replied shakily. “Twenth … he … he …”

“Ah, Twenth.” Rurke said sympathetically. “A very disordered being.” Rurke sighed and shrugged yet again. “But you see? I did nothing. Twenth assaulted you, Captain, not I.”  
“But…” Jean-Luc began, but quickly trickled into silence. Will saw what was happening and stepped up to help. “Denial of culpability isn’t a defence, Rurke.” he said coldly. “You’re up to your neck in these crimes and you know it. I’d be in your best interests to admit what you’ve done and help us to gather the evidence to lay charges against those others who’re even more guilty. Who knows?” he smiled coldly. “You might get a reduction in sentence for your help.”  
Rurke held Will’s gaze for a few long seconds before smiling indulgently. “There will be no sentence, Commander,” he sighed. “I’m but a bit player, a low-level minion. Speak to my employer or Lannit Yan. You’ll find much more fertile ground for bargaining with them.”

Will, disgusted, turned to leave before realising his captain hadn’t moved to follow him. He quickly assessed the scene and understood the older man was momentarily incapable of movement. Easing his hand gently to take Jean-Luc’s upper arm, Will muttered softly, “Come on, Captain. He’s not worth your time.”  
As the officers left the room, Rurke’s mocking voice was heard. “There was profit to made, Captain Picard. That always brings the ruthless to the fore. What does Twenth have to say? Did he enjoy obtaining your semen? Did you enjoy being milked?”  
The door closed on the taunts and a worried Will looked at his now pale and shaking captain. “Sir?” he asked solicitously. “Captain, are you all right?”  
There was a long silence before Jean-Luc shook his head and whispered, “No … no, Number One, I don’t think I am.”  
As they were about to interrogate Lannit Yan, Will had to know what he was dealing with. “Captain,” he asked gently, “what was Rurke talking about? Did he have possession of some semen samples of yours?”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes closed in embarrassment and pain. His nod was reluctantly given. Will waited patiently and was rewarded when Jean-Luc said softly, “I was sexually assaulted multiple times … Twenth administered drugs to make me more … productive, more fertile. He collected multiple ejaculations from me by orally raping me.”

“Oh, Christ.” Will muttered darkly. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Ok, so they had something in mind. Do you know what it was?”  
Jean-Luc’s look was icy. “You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t worked it out?”  
Will took a deep breath and swallowed his anger. “Yes, sir, I think I have, but I have to hear it from you. You’re the victim. These are your allegations to make.”  
Again Jean-Luc closed his eyes whilst trying to gather his control. “It’s my belief,” he began softly, “that there was an effort under way to use my stolen … biological matter… to impregnate females, the sole purpose of which to sell the resulting offspring. With me and my … reputation … as a selling point, a ready market would likely be ensured.”

Will managed to hide his disgust. “And this is additional to your abduction, and that of your family and ensign Kurnov?”  
“Yes. I don’t know if this was intended from the beginning, or if it was something that evolved as the abductors attempted to auction us all off. Both Beverly and ensign Kurnov were carrying multiple pregnancies due to my coerced rapes of them. However, Twenth assaulted me multiple times with the explicit motive to use my semen to impregnate other, presumably unwilling genetically compatible females.”  
“So,” Will muttered, speaking his thoughts aloud, “if that’s the case, then there must be some abducted females somewhere.” A thought occurred but Will hesitated before he asked gently, “Captain, how did Rurke know about this? As far as we knew, he was on the periphery. I mean, yes, Lannit Yan was on Rurke’s ship, but it obviously wasn’t Yan’s choice to be there. He was being tortured.”  
Jean-Luc sighed tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You recall when we intercepted Rurke’s ship? During his incursion into restricted space?”

“Yes, sir.”  
“A biological sample was detected.”  
Will’s expression showed his shock, then his anger. “You knew!” he spat hotly. “You knew damned well that the scan had picked up your biological fluid!” He glowered and shook his head. “And that’s why you were so insistent about getting on to Rurke’s ship.”  
Jean-Luc looked into his exec’s hurt and angry eyes and replied softly, “I’m sorry, Will. Yes, I knew. I had to destroy it.”  
“And did you?’  
“Yes.”

It took a moment or two for Will to compose himself. When he spoke, his voice was flat. “Ok, I can understand that. So…” he gave a short sigh, “it’s pretty certain that either Rurke or Yan have been sourcing compatible breeders. We can use that.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose in thought. “My guess is that would be Lannit Yan’s work. Rurke’s an enforcer, and…” he added after some thought, “a broker. Procuring breeding females is out of his purview. It must be Yan and I’d wager he’s attempting a side venture, and that’s why he was in Rurke’s hands. Perhaps their employer is unhappy.”  
“Unhappy.” Will’s cheeks swelled as he puffed out a breath. “If true, that would be an understatement.”  
“Indeed.” Jean-Luc nodded, slowly regaining his equilibrium. “And if that’s the case, it gives us vital leverage.”  
Will’s grin was wolfish and uncharacteristically cold. “Then let’s see what it can shake loose.”  
Somehow Jean-Luc summoned a wan smile. “Make it so, Number One.” 

Lannit Yan had been pacing restlessly. He was trying to convince himself that there was a way out of his current predicament, but as he developed each new and ever more elaborate strategy, he quickly rejected it.  
He didn’t hear the soft footfalls of the approaching interrogators and he startled when he heard Jean-Luc say quietly, but firmly, “Lannit Yan? I believe I have some issues to discuss with you.”  
Yan recovered far more quickly than even he expected. Seeing this average sized, seemingly harmless human standing before him gave his confidence a much-needed boost.  
“Ah!” Yan exclaimed smugly. “Captain Picard.” He walked closer to the forcefield, so close it made it hum loudly. “How are you, Captain? How are the pregnancies progressing? You’ll have lots of little Picards soon enough, I’d imagine.”  
Will saw his friend blanch and chose to shut the prisoner down. “Shut up, Yan. We ask the questions here.”

Lannit Yan shrugged and moved back, allowing the forcefield to stop humming. Will took a steadying breath and ordered his thoughts. “You, Lannit Yan, in concert with an individual known as, Twenth, engineered not only the destruction of Haven’s culture and social cohesion, but you also orchestrated the abduction of Captain Picard, his family and their assistant, ensign Katya Kurnov.”  
Before Will could continue, Lannit Yan shouted, “I engineered nothing! I orchestrated nothing! It was all Twenth, I was forced to go along with his ideas, I had no choice.”  
Jean-Luc’s voice was remarkably calm as he interjected, “You’re lying, Lannit Yan. I was there, I remember very clearly who was in control.” His smile was chilly as he added, “And the Haven authorities have provided proof of your murderous activities. The trail of bodies, your poor, innocent victims, leads directly to you. Yes,” Jean-Luc conceded, “Twenth murdered his fair share, but you, Lannit Yan, you reveled in your depravity. You left behind ample evidence of your perversions.”  
“Perversions?” Yan sneered. “I didn’t see you complaining when you repeatedly fucked your wife and your assistant.” He emphasied the word and leered provocatively. Somehow Jean-Luc resisted the urge to rise to the bait.   
“Nevertheless,” he managed to smile. “I’m certain beyond doubt that you are the one mainly responsible for what happed to me, my family, ensign Kurnov and the people of Haven. You, Lannit Yan, have a lot to answer for.”  
“Have you had your tattoo removed?”

The question was unexpected, and Jean-Luc faltered. “What?” he gasped, struggling for firmer ground.  
“Your tattoo.” Lannit Yan leered. “You seemed to enjoy Twenth’s artistry. I especially recall how you seemed to like it when he tattooed the head of your cock.”  
Will immediately moved to redirect the conversation. “Have you abducted some females for breeding, Lannit Yan?”  
The prisoner’s eyes dwelled on Jean-Luc for some long seconds before sliding to Will. “Females for breeding?” he shrugged. “I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”  
Will smiled indulgently. “Of course, you don’t.” He allowed a short silence before continuing, “But we know that what Twenth did to Captain Picard was with the intention to use the results of the sexual assaults to impregnate probably unwilling genetically compatible females and then gestate and to sell those results, the eventually born infants, to the highest bidder.”  
Again, Lannit Yan shrugged. “I couldn’t say.” he pursed his thin lips. “That was all Twenth’s doing. I just followed his directions.”  
“That is a lie!” Jean-Luc shouted. “You were responsible for all that befell us, you were behind everything that happened to us … to Haven…”  
Yan smiled coldly. “No, not me.” he smiled. “Twenth.”

Will laid a comforting hand on his CO’s shoulder. He gave Yan a long, cold look and then said, “You can protest as much as you like, Yan. The evidence will tell its own story. You’re fucked.”  
Lannit Yan grinned coldly. “Fucked, you say? What an interesting turn of phrase,” he chuckled derisively. “maybe you should ask your captain about that. He knows more about those matters than me.”  
Jean-Luc’s mouth gaped as outraged words tumbled though his mind. But before he could express any, Will laid a gently retraining hand on his forearm. “You can deflect all you want, Yan. We have the evidence of your crimes from multiple sources. Good luck trying to wriggle out of what’s coming.”

As Will began to guide his CO from the room, Jean-Luc halted and stared at his nemesis. “You will pay for what you’ve done, Lannit Yan.” he said with quiet, yet deadly certainty. “I will make sure of it.”  
The prisoner had no comment to make to that statement. The cold, resolute look in his former victim’s face said more than the words he used. Lannit Yan finally understood just how serious his predicament was and, for the first time, began to think of how to divulge Rurke’s and the employer’s involvement, while still protecting his life.  
Seeing the two humans leaving the room, he blurted, “Wait.”

Will turned first followed a few seconds later by Jean-Luc. “What?” Will asked with bland disinterest.  
“I know things.” Lannit blustered, before adopting an obsequious attitude. “I can tell you things, things you don’t know.”  
Will made a show of deferring to his captain. “What do you think, sir?”  
Having scrabbled to regain his control, at first all Jean-Luc did was nod. But as he quickly regathered his thoughts, he summoned a cold smile and sought to take the time to hurriedly regroup. “I don’t know, Number One.” He tried to sound disinterested. “Do you think it’s worth our time?”

“I’ll make it worth your time!” Lannit shouted, panic and desperation suddenly colouring his voice. “I can tell you everything, fill in the blanks I know you possess.”  
The captain turned to his exec; one eyebrow arched. “We have blanks?”  
Will turned his mouth down and shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of, Captain.”  
Lannit almost screamed his response. “You have blanks! You don’t know all the details!”  
Jean-Luc clasped his hands behind his back and adopted a mildly confused expression. “The details?” he remarked with quiet menace. “What details would that be, Lannit Yan? Details of what, precisely?”  
The time had come, there was no more room to manoeuvre. Lannit Yan had to confess all, if for no other reason than to save his own skin. Whether he succeeded remained to be seen. It would depend on how well Starfleet and the Federation could protect him. And crucially, for how long. 

The head of the local security detail frowned as he turned the small, innocuous looking device over in his hands. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” he muttered, before casting a quick glance at the silent, brooding being standing before him. “And you say he used this to simply move through the walls of the building? Right through the dampening field? And completely undetected?”  
“So, it would seem.” The reply was soft. The being then gestured to the device. “It is not just you who is puzzled by that thing. So far, it’s stymied the staff of the regional Starfleet tech unit too. Someone from Command is arriving soon to take it back to the high-tech facility in Brisbane.”  
“Huh.” the security head replied, shaking his head. “Well, they’re welcome to it. But I have to say, if we … or they, are dealing with someone who can lay their hands on something like this…” he gently hefted the device, “then I’d say we’d better beef things up around here.”

“Indeed.” The being agreed. “The weapon used to kill your team member is under scrutiny as well. It too appears to be a step above … a large step above anything that we know of.”  
“The intended victim … Ms. Kurnov? Somebody wants her dead, real bad.”  
“Yes.” The being sighed while shaking its head. “And if that …” it gestured to the device, “is what is available, that level of tech, then I really can’t see how anyone is going to prevent it.”  
“Yeah.” The security head said sadly.  
“Have you spoken to her … since …”  
“No.” the older man sighed and scratched idly at the hair on his neck. “I thought I’d speak to her friend, Tom Chalmers? She’s been sedated and there’s this whole other business with the assault… It’s a mess.”  
“Hmm, yes, I’d not considered that.”

The security head gave the being a long look and asked, “What is it you do, exactly? Are you Starfleet?”  
The being smiled enigmatically. “In a way, yes, but I’m more of a liaison person … a facilitator. It has been found that different departments,” it waved a hand between them, “work best when there is a smooth transit of information and action.”  
It sighed and added, “Too many times those who head their departments become entrenched and begin to act as if they’re running their own fiefdom. Someone like me,” it smiled in a self-depreciating way, “someone who is out of their sphere of influence, someone without a vested self-interest, can, more often than not, get things done with a minimum of fuss and thereby greatly speed up the sharing of information and action.”   
The listener raised one eyebrow in silent, slightly offended query. The being was quick to clarify its explanations. “I was referring to the higher ranked department heads, those who sit at the top of the command tree. I’m well aware of the great work lower ranked department heads like you achieve, and often under difficult circumstances.”  
The man’s grunt was soft but accepting. “Yes, well,” he muttered, once again giving the device a leery look. “Better you than me.” he said as he handed it to the being. “Good luck trying to figure it out.”  
“Thank you.” The being replied graciously before leaving.

The Tholian knew he was trapped. Yet that knowledge didn’t provide any solution to the problem he now faced. Somehow, and he was determined to find out how, someone had betrayed him.  
He could move his eyes a little, enough to see, wishing he could squint to lessen the glare, that he was suspended, naked and helpless, in an energy beam. By its pale blue tint and the gentle prickling over his entire body, he correctly identified what kind of beam it was and, more importantly, who it belonged to.  
“Federation.” The word was said silently, at first angrily but then, with a note of curiosity. “Federation? Interesting,” he mused, “that could mean many things, yet I feel I know where my betrayer lies.” His following thought was bitter. “Safely nestled in the Federation’s bloated breasts.”

His train of thought was broken as a being came into his field of view. The Tholian would have grinned with triumph had he been able to move his facial muscles. Nevertheless, in his mind he crowed, “Ah, yes. Now the game begins.”  
The being wore a fully enclosed evac suit, complete with helmet and darkened face plate. All the Tholian could discern was that the being was bipedal, possessed two arms with hands and digits, was of moderate build and shorter than he was.   
“Human?” he speculated but then gave a mental shrug. “The species doesn’t matter. It’s here to interrogate me. I might as well settle into bargaining mode. This should prove highly amusing, especially when I play my trump cards. When it realises how much I know, and about whom…”

The Tholian’s gloating came to an abrupt halt when he saw the being unholster a weapon. Suddenly his thoughts shifted to quickly assessing what might be the reason for such an action.  
“Torture?” he queried but then quickly dismissed the idea. “No, that’s not their style, more mine … although only through those like Rurke,” he qualified with a sense of superiority. “No, not torture.” He wanted to frown and shake his head as he thought, “Intimidation? Surely not?”  
Alarm shot through the Tholian as the being stepped close and placed the now brightly glowing tip of the weapon in the middle of his forehead. It spoke for the first time, the voice sounding strange and slightly accented as it emerged from the small speakers in the helmet. 

“You probably think this is a weapon, and you’d be right, it is. However, it is so, so much more.” It seemed to sigh. “It will extract everything your brain holds, every thought you’ve ever had, every memory you possess. And once it has taken all that you have to give, it will efficiently and painlessly end your life.”  
The being shrugged and tilted its head. “I might have once felt pity for you, for what’s about to happen to you, but as I recall what you’ve done … or caused to have done … to others, instead of pity I feel satisfaction that someone like you will no longer be able to prey on those who can’t defend themselves. You deserve this.”  
The Tholian didn’t feel anything, in fact he briefly thought the being had lied, or that the device had failed to function. That was before he realised he was rapidly losing the ability to form thoughts. There was a sudden yet extremely brief flash of panic, then he, the individual he was … had been … simply faded away.

Thirty-one minutes and eight seconds later, there was a low hum as the device changed modes. The being felt it heat up, even through its gloves. There was a slight recoil as it discharged and the Tholian’s head vanished.  
Inside the helmet the being wrinkled its flared, flat nose, imagining it could smell the seared flesh of the Tholian’s neck stump. It gave no more thought to the body or the person it once was. It was crucial that the device be connected to a powerful and unique computer, specifically, a downloader.   
Once the information had been transferred it would be transformed into a data stream which would then be heavily encrypted to be sent to an anonymous end user. The being had no idea where it was going, nor did it want to know. That kind of information could shorten one’s life.

Orders were given to make the jump to slip warp. On the pilot’s ship, the being smiled and gave a short nod. “Space will be a better place, now … at least until another like that rises.”  
Haf turned its attention back to the screens it had been watching. Picard and Riker. And Lannit Yan. And the broker, Rurke. The pilot gave a small shake of its head. “Rurke.” It sighed. “I wonder if learning the Tholian is dead will change anything? Will he give up what he knows? Or will I have to use…”  
It glanced at the device now sitting on the console. “I don’t suppose it matters much, I’ll be using it on Lannit Yan, anyway. Still…” it sighed, “I’ll give the captain and his loyal friend time to feel that they’ve extracted the truth from Lannit. I think it will assist Picard in his recovery. He certainly deserves some help.” It smiled. “Yes, let them think they’ve done the work, it’ll never be made known exactly how the information was gained.”

The second time Beverly and Deanna met with the mysterious fleet admiral had a quite different outcome from the first. Instead of leaving with a feeling of disquiet and suspicion, the women left buoyed and relieved.  
Their partners had survived the mission and were going to be returning soon. Once outside the Command building, Beverly threw her head back and took in a deep, cleansing breath. Deanna watched silently. She felt her friend’s joy, even though it was tinged with the slightest amount of fear.   
She felt the same way, but for different reasons. Where Beverly still harboured a small amount of fear of her husband, Deanna’s fear was for him, his mental health, and their marriage.  
And yet she had to admit that her captain had recovered from severe trauma before. She had to believe he could do so again. And she’d do everything her power to help him. She glanced at Beverly and amended silently, “Both of them.”

Tom’s frown was so deep he was feeling pain between his brows. In order to curtail his habit of fidgeting while he thought, he’d folded his arms across his chest and now, because of increasing tension, his shoulders were beginning to ache.   
“I’m not sure I understand why you’re interrogating me!” he said through his clenched jaw, soon to be another site of discomfort.  
The human male’s smile was becoming fixed. “I’m not interrogating you, Doctor Chalmers,” he replied in a slightly condescending tone, causing more irritation in Tom. “I’m simply trying to gain information,” he quickly held up his right index finger to silence Tom’s predictable protest. “information that may not only assist us in finding out who’s behind the attempt on your …” he hesitated slightly, “… friend’s … life, but also to keep her safe while we continue with our investigations.”  
“Why did you say it like that?” Tom was obviously angry, and the security head was puzzled as to why.   
“Pardon?”

“Friend’s.” Tom spat, accentuating the word.   
“Ah…” the man groped for a diplomatic answer. When nothing came to him, he abandoned the attempt. “Look, Doctor, I’ve no idea what your relationship with Ms. Kurnov is and frankly I don’t care. Friends, lovers, I couldn’t give a rat’s arse.” He paused and took a calming breath. “Please…” he continued in a gentler tone, “just answer my questions.”  
Tom did his best to lose his rigidity, both mental and physical. “Ok, I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to do your job, it’s just that…” he made a vague gesture, “so much has happened…”  
“I understand.” The man said with genuine sympathy. “Really, Doctor, I do.”  
“Yeah.” Tom sighed. “Ok, I’ll do my best.”

Fifteen minutes later Tom was running his hands through his hair. His exasperation mirrored the security head’s. “I don’t know!” Tom almost shouted. “I was working on a new propulsion system and, as far as I know, so was Katya. At least we were working on that together. If she was doing something else, I didn’t know about it.”  
Tom suddenly held up his hands and said curtly, “McCormack! You should be looking at Carl McCormack. If anyone’s responsible for this fucking attack on Katya, it’s him!”  
“Yes, so you keep saying.” The security head said patiently.  
“And I’ll say it again.” Tom growled. “And I’ll keep saying it ‘til you listen and fucking well do something.”  
The listener’s eyes hardened. “And what would you have me do, Doctor Chalmers?”  
“Investigate him!”

“How? Do you realise what would happen if we just barged into his affairs and started to rummage around?”  
Tom’s tone was scathing as he replied, “You’re afraid of a lawsuit?”  
“No.” The man responded with barely contained impatience. “No, not a lawsuit, Doctor. My concern is that if McCormack gets so much as a whiff that he’s being investigated, any evidence that might be in his possession will vanish. Disappear. As in, no longer exist. Do you understand? If he’s as guilty as you allege, then we need to catch him with his pants down. Unprepared.”  
The laugh that Tom gave was derisive. “With his pants down? Oh, my god, you’ve no idea just how sadly relevant and apt that term is, when referencing him.”  
“Yes, you’ve stated it’s your belief he’s a sexual predator, a paedophile.”  
“He is, he really is, and his niece is one of his victims.”

“That would be Sally McCormack.” It wasn’t a question.  
“Yes.” Tom’s replied anyway, his voice carrying his weariness.  
“And she was the victim of the assault that caused charges to be leveled against Ms. Kurnov?”  
“Yes.” Tom admitted begrudgingly, but quickly acted to clarify things. “Yes, Katya assaulted Sally, but she was provoked. Katya’s the victim of a…” he shook his hands in frustration. “A sexual assault, but not one.”  
“What?” the security said with confusion. “What the hell does that mean?”  
Tom sighed impatiently and shook his head. “It’s complicated. She was sexually assaulted but the person who did it was not responsible for his actions. He’d been drugged, he had no choice. Katya and his wife … he raped them both multiple times.”  
“Why am I just hearing about this now?”

Tom shrugged. “Because it’s not relevant. I seriously doubt McCormack wanted to kill Katya because she’d endured being raped.”  
The department head struggled to keep his anger at bay. “But he may have been motivated by Ms. Kurnov’s attack on his niece. And if her behaviour was caused by what she endured, then that links Carl McCormack to whatever happened to Ms. Kurnov.” The security head closed his eyes briefly as he still struggled to calm himself. “Do you know who the rapist is?”  
“Yes…” Tom’s reply was cautious.  
The security head simply raised his eyebrows, causing Tom to give up any pretense of confidentiality. “Captain Jean-Luc Picard.”  
“What?” The reply was clearly unbelieving.   
“It’s true.” Tom shrugged. “Apparently Katya, Captain Picard, his wife and their children were abducted from Haven, where they’d gone for a break, and the abductors decided to use them for breeding.”  
“To what end?”  
Tom held up his hands. “I don’t know.”  
There ensued a long silence while each man considered the information. It was the security head who broke it. “Right! Well, I have a lot more to investigate now. No doubt I’ll be talking to you again, Doctor Chalmers … and Ms. Kurnov when she’s able.”  
“Of course.”  
Tom was left feeling somewhat disjointed by the exchange. He stood in silence and gave everything some thought before deciding he had to talk to Katya. He exited the room, heading directly for her room. 

Lannit Yan was sweating profusely, something he’d never suffered under stress before. But this level of stress was something he’d not encountered before. The struggle to balance the dissemination of his knowledge against what might be offered as reward for doing so was having a telling effect. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew that he was on the losing end of the exchanges, that his interrogators held all the advantage. But years of keeping ahead of the game, of obfuscating, of misdirecting … those skills were not easily cast aside.  
However, Lannit Yan’s sense of self-preservation was finely honed, and he would not abandon it easily, or without a fight, pointless as it may seem.  
“Ah,” he muttered, doing his best to maintain a semblance of power and confidence. “I’ll tell you that only if you give something of equal weight.”  
Will smiled, but it was a cold expression. “Give you something?” he scoffed quietly. “We don’t see why, Yan. Our position remains the same. You answer our questions, and we might see if we find what you tell us is worthy of shaving a year or two off from your multiple life sentences.”

“You can’t do that to me!” Lannit blustered, already knowing it was a useless gesture. “You can’t possibly know what your courts will do, what they’ll deliver as punishment.”  
Jean-Luc’s grin was wolfish. “It seems you know the verdicts already, Lannit Yan. It seems to me that you’re more than aware of your crimes, that you’re aware that no Federation court is going to find you anything less that guilty as charged. Why are you even trying to bargain? You have nothing to bargain with.”  
“I have rights.” Lannit claimed weakly.  
Will took up the conversation again. “Yes, you do, however, most of those rights only apply to the innocent. Any rights for the guilty are quite different, and not nearly so generous.”  
There was a short, tense silence, before Lannit murmured, “So? What must I do to earn any mercy?”  
“Mercy?” Jean-Luc said coldly. “Mercy?” he repeated with anger. “You don’t deserve any mercy, Lannit Yan. All you can hope for is that the rest of your miserable, worthless life is spent in a Federation incarceration facility.”   
His cold grin returned as he added, “Of course we could always hand you over to other, more unenlightened worlds, where your crimes committed on their worlds would be dealt with far more severity.” The captain’s gaze hardened. “Many worlds still have capital punishment as an option. Personally, I would agree with that, just for you, mind, but handing you over remains an option.”

“No…” Lannit Yan felt the crushing defeat, it caused his body to deflate and his head to bow. “No, please, don’t do that. I’ll tell you everything.”  
Jean-Luc’s sigh was an inward one, nothing of his relief showed outwardly. Over the next 40 minutes, Lannit Yan answered every question put to him and elaborated to clarify every unknown detail. And through it all, Jean-Luc maintained his control. Inevitably, his monumental effort to hold on, to keep at bay all the potent emotions within him that clamoured so loudly, would emerge in some way.   
Somewhere, deep inside him, he understood that when that happened, he would have to have some kind of help. He fervently hoped that those he loved wouldn’t bear the brunt of the coming storm. He hoped.

Beverly breezed into the living area, her smile a radiant one. “What do you think?” she asked Deanna, who was standing at the floor to ceiling windows, admiring the view of San Francisco harbour.   
She turned and ran a critical eye over her best friend. “Not bad,” she said, nodding. “But maybe a different colour for your top?”  
Before Beverly could respond, James said, “Maman? Is papa really coming back soon?”  
The doctor went to her son and ran her fingers down his face in gesture of tenderness. “Yes, James,” she confirmed. “papa’s coming back soon.”  
The boy grinned, but it was somewhat uncertain. “If papa’s coming home soon why are you asking aunt Deanna about your clothes?”  
“Ah,” Beverly’s smile grew. “I want to look my best for papa.”

“Oh.” James replied doubtfully. “Will me and Elly have to wear special things too?”  
Beverly chose to forego correcting his speech. Instead she nodded. “Yes. Don’t you think it’d be good to wear nice things when you see papa again?”  
“Yes…” James’s confusion was still evident. “But, maman, why does it matter?”  
Her patience beginning to fray, Beverly sought to end the conversation with her son decisively. “Just let me make the decisions, James.”  
“Ok.” he replied in a small voice. 

A quietly concerned Deanna chose to gently caution her friend. “Don’t make too much of it, Beverly, the captain’s going to be focused only on you and the children. What you all wear is probably going to be irrelevant.”  
There was a glare brewing when Beverly glanced at the counsellor, but it was quickly quashed. “Yes, I know,” she admitted, “but I just want to … to celebrate his,” she offered a smile and added, “their return.”  
“And I agree with you, I want to celebrate that too.” Deanna’s enthusiastic smile conveyed her sympathy, but then she sobered. “We don’t know what they’ve been through, how high their stress levels are. And they are unaware of what we’ve been through. Perhaps we should just concentrate on having them back, on the reintegration for all of us, together…”  
It took a few seconds before Beverly acceded. She gave a slightly reluctant nod, but she sought a more agreeable mien when she said. “So not this top. Ok, got that.” She turned to exit the room but not before adding, “I suppose being naked isn’t an option?”  
Deanna chuckled and called out, “Probably not, although I think both Will and the captain would appreciate it.”  
She was still chuckling quietly when she heard James ask, “Aunty Deanna?”  
She went to him and sat on the floor beside him. “Yes?”

“When papa comes back, will he still be different?”  
Immediately concerned, Deanna replied, “What do you mean, James?”  
The little boy sighed, “Before the holiday, papa and maman were the same. But after they were different. I didn’t like it.”  
“Hmm, yes. I can see what you mean.”  
“Why, aunty Deanna. Why were they different? Papa had pictures on him. Why did he have pictures?”  
Deanna took a moment or two to order her thoughts. “James,” she began, “you know the difference between right and wrong?”  
“Yes, kinda. Sometimes I … I do things wrong.”

Having run her fingers through his hair, Deanna graced him with a tender smile. “And that’s fine.” she stressed the word with a kiss to his brow. “You’re still learning, James, just like Elly.”  
She gestured to the baby, snoozing on her mat. “But there are some grownups that choose to do bad things. Some bad people did some bad things to your maman and papa and Katya and that’s made them unhappy … and that caused them to seem different.”   
“But I don’t like them different. I want it like it was before.” James glanced at his sister and added, “So does Elly. She doesn’t like the different either.”  
Deanna smiled inwardly. Though she was certain that Elly was feeling the change in her mother, she also knew that James had used the addition of his sister’s feelings to add weight to his complaint. There was no point in calling him on it; Deanna chose to simply accept it. He was, after all, correct.

“When your papa comes back, I’ll help him and your maman to get back to the way they were before.”  
She smiled and put her fingers under James’ chin to lift his face so she could look into his eyes. “But it may take some time, James. The things that have happened have made your parents very sad, so it’s going to be hard to make them all better. You…” Deanna gestured to Elly, “both of you will have to be patient. In fact,” the counsellor smiled tenderly, “I’m counting on you, James. I know your love will help your parents a lot. You and Elly are the most important things in their lives. With your help, I’m sure they’ll try very hard to get better.”  
James nodded solemnly and Deanna almost gasped at how much he resembled his father at that moment. It passed and James’s mood lightened. He let out a giggle which he tried to cover by putting his hands over his mouth. “I know a secret.” he managed to say between giggles.

Deanna appreciated the change in the little boy’s mood and decided to play along. “And what is it?” she grinned. “Are you going to tell me?”  
Mischief danced in James’s eyes as he lowered his hands and whispered, “Sometimes maman and papa sleep with no clothes on.”  
The counsellor barely suppressed a snigger. “Really?” she replied, trying to not show the wicked, delighted grin that wanted so badly to show itself. “How do you know?”  
“Yes!” James confirmed. “I know because sometimes I go into their bed at night … if I have a yucky dream. And when I get in the bed, maman and papa has no pajamas on.” He seemed to give that statement some consideration before clarifying it with, “but not every time.”

“No, I suppose not.” Deanna smiled.  
“I asked papa why he and maman sometimes don’t wear pajamas.” James’s tone made his curiosity evident.  
Again, Deanna only just managed to suppress an evilly delighted grin. “Really? What did he say?”  
“He said that he and maman have special cuddles that make them hot. So, they take their pajamas off to cool down.” He sighed and shook his head. “I really like cuddles, but I’ve never had one that made me hot.”  
“Well,” Deanna was losing her battle and offered a chuckle. “Perhaps it’s a grown-up thing?”  
James gave his aunt a scathing look, but then his expression changed as he asked, “Do you and uncle Will do the hot cuddles?”  
Finally, Deanna gave up trying to control her amusement. She put her head back and laughed outright. Beverly, drawn by the laughter, came into the room, two blouses held in each of her hands. “What’s so funny?” she asked, a delighted yet slightly suspicious expression on her face.

Deanna’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she replied, “James has been telling me how you and the captain sometimes sleep with no pajamas on. He explained that his papa told him you two have special cuddles that make you hot. So …” Deanna guffawed, “you have to take your clothes off.”  
The blush rose rapidly on Beverly’s face. She tried to pass her embarrassment off, but just as quickly gave up. “Well, what can I say?” she conceded with a wry smile. “Special cuddles are heat inducing.”   
She shrugged, making Deanna laugh all the more. Elly, stirred by the noise, grizzled before rolling over and sitting up. To redirect the attention, Beverly went to her daughter and picked her up. “I’m just going to change Elly...”  
“You do that.” Deanna chuckled. “We’ll still be here when you come back.”  
“Thanks for that.” Beverly quipped as she picked Elly up and took her to the nursery.

With Jean-Luc and Will in their assigned quarters, the pilot was standing outside Rurke’s cell, considering what would be the best course of action. Instructions had been given, but the decision on what to do with Rurke had been left largely to its discretion.  
The broker seemed to sense that his life hung in the balance, yet he remained stoic. The pilot raised its hand and showed Rurke the device it held. “You know what this is.” It wasn’t a question.  
The broker gave a nod and a small smile appeared. “I should. I’ve seen it used on more than one occasion.”  
“I’ve no doubt.” The pilot’s eyes glinted. “And seeing that your employer, the Tholian, provided the funds for the development of this…” it frowned in distaste, making the pale, thin skin of its forehead crease oddly. “…and other devices like it, I’d imagine you’ve seen many instances of their use.”

“Not as many as you might think.” Rurke’s smile faded a little. “My employer was very careful in how, when, and where his tech was used. He preferred others to do his bidding.” The broker shrugged. “And, of course, it’s often the case where a more … traditional … approach to harvesting information gains a more visceral response. And then, of course, word spreads. Sometimes a reputation, a tacit threat of what’s to come…” he shrugged again. “Those like me have our place, our uses, where one of those things…” he gestured to the device, “is only used once.”  
“I see your point.” The pilot almost shuddered. It then adopted a quieter tone. “You know the Tholian is dead and that we are now in possession of everything his brain contained?”  
“I assumed as much.” Rurke’s tone carried his weariness. “And can I assume Lannit Yan has met the same fate?”  
“Not yet, but soon.”

Rurke nodded slowly. “No one will mourn Lannit Yan; he is a vile, contemptible thing. I think perhaps the action that results in his death should be considered an act of common decency.”  
The pilot’s thin eyebrows rose. It hadn’t expected that.  
“The Tholian’s demise is different, though.” Rurke sighed. “Yes, his power was misdirected and had pervaded … and perverted far too many otherwise noble entities, such as Starfleet and the Federation council, but they gained by prostituting themselves to the likes of him.”

Rurke gestured again to the device. “I know that the Federation has access to things like that, but what’s more important is the technology behind it. They have the wherewithal to expand it and, importantly, to redirect the applications of what follows.”  
There was a hint of derision in Haf’s tone as it said, “To use for the powers of good?”  
The quiet chuckle was unexpected. “I’m not so naïve.” Rurke’s humour waned. “No, there’ll always be a need for violence of one sort or another, that is the nature of things, but those who strive for a higher standard, who possess a nobler ideal … fortunately there are more of them than those who would seek to corrupt the organisations they serve.”  
“So, you think the good will conquer the bad?”

“Again, that’s too naïve, too simplistic. That particular battle will always be in progress. For now, it’s my belief that wiser minds will prevail. For the future? I don’t know.”  
He grinned at the pilot and, incredibly, winked. “Of course, my life may end in a few short moments. My opinions, my views are only relevant to me and then only for as long as I’m alive.”  
The pilot returned the grin and nodded. “Indeed.” It then sobered. “And so, Rurke, I must decide what to do with you.” It sighed and shook its head. “You pose a problem, Rurke. Though it’s doubtful you hold any information that we don’t know about already, it’s true that it’s about relevance.” The being looked down at the device and shook its head again. “I find I don’t want to do this, Rurke.”  
“If you don’t…” Rurke said quietly, “what’s the alternative? What other options do you have?”

The pilot’s eyes seemed to strobe with colour, making its pale skin seem translucent. “Do you have a family, Rurke?”  
The broker frowned with genuine surprise. “You have to ask? Why don’t you know?”  
The smile that crept over Haf’s face carried a hint of embarrassment. “Forgive me, Rurke. Our resources are vast, but we still must be conservative with their use. In other words…”  
“I’m not important enough.” Rurke concluded with a wry grin. “Fair enough. To answer your question, Yes, I have family. I have some siblings, but what are important to me are my children. My mate died long ago, and my offspring are grown. We became estranged a long time ago. They didn’t approve of my work…”  
He shook his head and a frown developed. “Yet I find, as I age, that I wish to see them, to reconnect with them,” He sighed, an oddly sentimental gesture for him. “at least once before I die. Unfortunately, they may not want that, but it’s something I have caused and regretted for a long time. I would like to try and change that.”  
“You’re an honourable being in your own way, Rurke. I’m not completely ignorant of your activities, of your … principles in carrying some of them out.” It seemed to strive for thought before giving a soft snort and lifting its head to give the captive a decisive look. “I take it you are willing to retire? To stop what you’ve been doing for so long?”

“Yes.” Rurke said softly with a nod.  
“You’ve had other employers in the past?”  
“Yes, but not for many years. The Tholian was an uncompromising and dangerous employer but he paid very generously.”  
“Indeed.” The pilot’s reply was bone dry. It took a deep breath and continued in a milder tone, “If you give your assurance, you word, that you will stop, that you will return to your family and cease all brokering and your other professional activities, then I will spare you. We will take possession of your ship and we will transport you to wherever you wish to go.”  
The relief Rurke felt was barely discernible, yet Haf detected it.  
“I give you my word, my solemn vow,” Rurke said solemnly, “that I will cease and desist all of my former activities. I will go to my family, reconcile with them, and live out what’s left of my life in peace.”  
The pilot’s expression was hard; its tone carried a warning. “Don’t ever think we won’t be watching, Rurke. One misstep, one instance of regression and what remains of your life will end.”  
“I understand.”

The pilot left and made its way to Lannit’s cell. The captive rose quickly from his bunk and moved to stand close to the force field. Haf gave a disarming smile as it said gently, “I have something for you, Lannit Yan, something to help you sleep. I know how stressful these situations are, the interrogations you’ve had to endure.”  
Surprise registered on Lannit’s face. “Oh!” he uttered, his mind already sizing up the slightly built alien, looking to find a way to engineer his escape. “Oh, that would be appreciated. Picard and Riker, they badgered me, they made me so fearful for my safety,” his eyes darted to and fro as he added in a confidential tone, “especially Picard. I think he’s…” he tapped his temple.  
The pilot smiled as if to agree and gestured to the force field. “I’ll have to lower this. You will agree to obey my instructions?”  
“Yes! Of course!” Lannit’s mind was cluttered with ploys and cruel derision. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re this fucking stupid!” he crowed silently, already envisioning his escape.  
It was suddenly silent without the hum of the barrier. The pilot beckoned Lannit forward and, as he complied, the pilot saw the barely perceptible flash of defiance in Lannit’s eyes. “No.” Haf said quietly as it quickly placed the tip of the device in the centre of Lannit’s forehead. “No more, Lannit Yan.” 

The process was swift. The instrument was able to discard any information that was already known. It turned out Lannit Yan knew truly little that the Federation wished to know, although those worlds that had unsolved crimes perpetrated by Yan and Twenth would be sent the gathered information. If nothing else, it would assist the law and order entities to close the cases and the families of the victims to find some closure.  
The pilot stared briefly at the beheaded body before activating another program that beamed the remains into space. It returned to the bridge and placed a locator buoy on Rurke’s ship for later retrieval. Having achieved its tasks, it ordered its ship into slip warp. Destination, Earth.

The fleet admiral smiled at the image on the screen. “I’m gratified.” she said quietly. “To have been able to help, to have been able to advise at such a crucial juncture …” she sighed. “This has taken generations to achieve. They are such good people; they hold such lofty and genuine ideals…”  
“Yes, but we will have to disclose soon. We can’t hide ourselves any longer. We must tell the members what we’ve done and how we’ve done it. There’s no option but a full and frank admission.”  
“Agreed.” The fleet admiral sighed. “It will cause anger, possible vigorous protest.”  
“As it should,” the image of the being nodded. “Yet I feel that the members will eventually see and then accept the logic of our actions … our interference.”  
“Yes! And that ability, to express those protests, that anger, and then to consider more calmly, that’s why we chose to help, so long ago.”  
“Yes, but now we must turn our attention to those who’ve suffered most. Those who’ve borne the brunt of the latest attempts at corruption.” 

“The Tholian, Lannit Yan and Twenth. What they did, what they wrought.”  
“Yes. Their victims were deplorable pawns in a much larger conspiracy. They shouldn’t have to bear the costs.”  
“No.” The fleet admiral shook her head. “No, indeed. What Lannit Yan and Twenth did drew them into something that was originally unintended, at least by the perpetrators. In some ways they were victims too. Victims of their own perverted greed as well as the Tholain’s manipulations.”  
“Agreed, and we must bear the blame for not anticipating how the Tholian would take advantage of the situation.” The image on the screen sighed. “We must not be so complacent again. Vigilant. We must remain vigilant.”  
The fleet admiral nodded solemnly. “Experience is a great teacher. We can all still learn.” She smiled, but then her expression sobered. “Now, what do we do about those who have been corrupted?”  
“Ah, yes. A larger problem than first estimated.” The image shook its head. “Too much has been discovered about us; too many people have interacted with our members. Perhaps…” the being hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, perhaps we should disclose fully, expose the corrupted as we admit our presence and explain our motives?”  
“That will cause much unrest, many protests…”  
“Agreed, but time and again these people, the Federation members, have shown, when confronted with unexpected and shocking news, once the initial shock passes, they have the ability to assess, to examine, and come to sensible decisions. We have to trust them to do the same now.”

“While I agree with you,” the fleet admiral said guardedly, “I fear the coming weeks, and months, will be difficult, for all concerned.”  
“Yes, but the reasons our people chose to help these people, those of the Federation of Planets, remains unchanged. They are worthy of assistance. And we must give it.”  
The fleet admiral smiled and offered an inclination of her head by way of acceptance. “I look forward to speaking with you again.”  
“And, I, you.”  
The screen darkened, indicating the channel had closed. The ancient female gave a decisive nod and quietly called the computer into action.   
“Implement psychological retrieval of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Doctor Beverly Picard, James Picard, Elly Picard and former Ensign Katya Kurnov. Effective as of now, and when is considered convenient, given current circumstances.   
“Also, implement dissemination of information pertaining to the corruption of Starfleet members, all ranks, Federation council members, all levels, and all those in the private sector. Effective, immediately, dissemination of all records to all media outlets, official and unofficial. Attach factual verification.”  
The female ignored the chimes of the computer’s compliance. She sighed and sat back in her chair, turning her gaze to the dense foliage that surrounded her workspace. “So,” she sighed. “it has begun. This will be my generation’s legacy. And, perhaps,” she frowned sadly, “its burden.”

Tom made sure his entry into Katya’s room was silent, yet he wasn’t surprised when he heard her say, “No need to creep around, Tom. I’m awake.”  
He plastered a smile on his face as he oriented himself in the room. Katya wasn’t in bed. She was seated near the window, her feet planted on the low sill, her feet crossed at the ankles.  
“How long have you been up?” Tom asked with quiet concern.  
“Don’t you mean, awake?” Her sarcasm was obvious. She shifted and lowered her feet before resettling herself in the chair. “Sorry, Tom.” she said softly. “I’m so over this…” she waved vaguely and then let her hand drop to her lap. “I feel like I’m going mad …” she chuckled sadly, “but of course I can’t be. My medications would prevent that. After all, I’m in the loony bin already! No one in here is crazy.”  
An uncomfortable silence passed while Tom searched for something to say that was placatory without being condescending.   
He needn’t have bothered. “Who the fuck am I trying to kid?” Katya said bitterly. “I must be crazy, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”  
“You’re not crazy.” Tom said. “Recent events prove that.”

“The attempts on my life?” Katya asked with a derisive laugh. “That’s got nothing to do with my mental state. That’s all about Sally fucking McCormack.”  
“Maybe,” Tom murmured as he dragged a chair closer to hers and sat. “Maybe not. Stuff’s happening, Katya. Really big stuff.”  
“Meaning what?” Her sharp tone clearly showed she was wide awake.  
Tom belatedly realised he’d said too much. Now the information he was privy to had become potentially detrimental to his friend, rather than helpful. “Oh…” he made a dismissive gesture. “nothing. Just, you know, just official bullshit.”  
“Tom.” Katya’s tone was uncompromising. “Whatever it is you know, tell me.”  
Tom squirmed momentarily in his chair before throwing his hands in the air. “Fine!” he spat. And then, more softly, “Fine.” He took a deep breath and offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Katya, but I told the security head … the one leading the investigation into the attempts on your life, about what happened to you … on Haven.”

He saw her expression go blank and he hurried to explain himself. “It just came up!” he protested weakly. “I was being, well, interrogated and I was trying to convince the SH to turn his attention towards Carl McCormack. And that made him ask me some stuff, and so I told him some stuff … and the next thing I know is he’s made a connection between what happened to you and what happened with Sally … and why her uncle might be … well … connected to all of it.”  
Somehow Katya managed to regain control of her roiling emotions. “How?” she asked quietly. “How is he connected?”  
“I don’t know,” Tom said as he shrugged. “but the SH seemed pretty keen to expand the investigation ‘cause of what I told him. He told me he was going to come and talk to you.”  
“Did he now?” Katya’s mind was already turning everything over. She paused for a few moments before saying, “Tom? Did the Security Head say anything about tech?”  
Again, Tom shrugged. “Not specifically, but I’ve heard that some pretty awesome stuff has been found on the man who got into your room.”  
Katya’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” she pulled down her mouth in an expression of being impressed. “That’s very interesting, very interesting indeed.”  
“Why?” Tom asked warily.

The smile that Katya offered became was predatory. “Do you remember when we were working on that new warp drive? The one that seemed to break the laws of physics?”  
“Of course, I remember.” Tom snorted derisively. “We followed protocol and sent our results over to the main building.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand as he grunted and said, “And we were told to can it. Months of my work, and later yours too, trashed with no explanation.”  
“What if it wasn’t trashed?”   
“What? Katya, what the hell are you suggesting? That GWT hid our findings? For what purpose? If we were right, that meant GWT stood to make a huge profit on a new, highly lucrative warp drive.”  
“But what if they already had the stats? What if McCormack already knew?”  
Tom’s slightly slack jaw told its own story. As Katya watched she could almost see his thought processes in action. The first word out of his mouth was profane. “Fuck!”  
There was dry humour in her voice when Katya replied, “Fuck, indeed.”

Tom’s mind was spinning. “So, if McCormack already had the stats … and maybe the drive itself, where the fuck did he get it? And why,” Tom’s voice was rising in anger. “Why the fuck did he prevent us, people he employed to do this kind of work, why did he prevent us from developing what we’d found?”  
“I don’t know.” Katya sighed as she rubbed her temples. “But this is all somehow linked, Tom. Like the SH said, somehow this is all connected.”

Jean-Luc had been sleeping soundly, far more soundly than he’d slept in some time. The soft, musical chime that eventually, after several repetitions, pulled him from his slumber caused him to bark sourly, “Yes! What is it?”  
There was sympathy in the pilot’s voice as it said, “I’m sorry to have woken you, Captain, but we are approaching the Sol system. I thought perhaps you might like time to bathe and remove the hair from your face before we arrive?”  
“Yes… Thank you.” Jean-Luc managed. “What is our ETA?”  
“One hour, Captain. You will have time for a meal as well.”  
“And where will we disembark?  
“Starfleet Command, San Francisco.”  
“Local time there?”  
“Zero ten thirty thirty-nine hours on arrival, sir.”  
“I see. Well …” Jean-Luc was about to close the channel when he thought of something. “Pilot?”  
“Yes, Captain?”

“The prisoners? I take it Starfleet intelligence has been informed and is ready to take them?”  
There was a small hesitation before Haf replied, “Neither Rurke nor Lannit Yan are aboard any longer, Captain. They left the ship some time ago.” The pilot then added, “While you were asleep.”  
“Oh, I see. So where did they go? Who took charge of them?”  
“That’s not something you need to concern yourself with, Captain. Rest assured they have been subjected to adequate and thorough methods of security.”  
The channel closed, leaving a frowning Jean-Luc to mutter, “What the hell does that mean? Adequate and thorough methods of security?” He shook his head as he was making his way to his small bathroom. After a moment’s thought, he contacted Will.  
“Yes, Captain?”  
“Number One, we’re due to disembark at SFC in about an hour.”

He was interrupted as Will said, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just you who’ll be going to Earth. Any minute now I’ll be transferred to a ship that’s going to reunite me with the Enterprise. My orders are to bring her home.”  
“Oh,” Jean-Luc didn’t try to hide his surprise, but recovered quickly. “Very good, Number One, but before you go, are you aware that Rurke and Lannit Yan are no longer aboard?”  
“No, sir, I’m not.”  
“I asked the pilot who had them … where they’d been taken, and I didn’t get a straight answer.”  
“I don’t know what to say, Captain. I guess SFI has preempted the process and…” Jean-Luc heard the soft voice of the pilot in the background as it spoke to Will. He updated his CO quickly. “Apologies, Captain, I have to go.”  
Jean-Luc didn’t have the opportunity to respond. Will had left the ship.

Deanna was watching her friend closely. Beverly was unable to stand still, first transferring her weight from foot to foot as she stood and then, when that failed to dispel her restlessness, she began to pace while she patted Elly’s bottom erratically through the padded material of the carry cocoon and her nappy.   
Deanna noted the patting was becoming too fast, a nervous tic, rather than a comforting gesture for the little girl. The child had begun to exhibit her discomfort by starting to grizzle. James too was reacting to his mother’s tension. He was holding her hand, but his thumb had slipped into his mouth, something he’d not done for some time, and his gaze was fixed on his feet.  
“Beverly.” Deanna said gently. “Try to calm down.” She would have said more, but a sharp reply from the doctor cut her off.   
“Calm down?” Beverly spat. “Oh, sure, I’m about to see my husband, the one that was sent on a virtual suicide mission, emerge through the doors in one piece. How the hell am I supposed to respond? A hug? A kiss? For god’s sake Deanna, how the fuck am I supposed to…”

James gasped and lifted his gaze to his mother, his thumb slipping from his mouth. “You said a bad word, maman.”  
The doctor closed her eyes as she tried to rein in her tumultuous emotions. She took a deep breath and found a smile for her son. “I’m sorry, James, you’re quite right, I did and I’m sorry.”  
James shook his head. “But why, maman? Are you angry at papa?’  
It was difficult for Beverly to control herself. “No.” she managed to broaden her smile. “No, I’m not angry with papa. I’m just … I’m just really excited to see him.”  
James gave that some thought and summoned a small smile. “Me too.” he said softly, but added, “But I hope he’s not still different.”  
“Different?” Beverly asked, but whatever she may have said further was lost as the doors whispered open. A tired looking Jean-Luc stepped into the room and summoned a small smile. “Hello.” he said quietly, as he dropped his small bag.   
“Hi.” Beverly replied. James withdrew his hand from his mother’s and took two steps towards his father. “Papa?” he said uncertainly.  
Jean-Luc dropped to one knee and spread his arms. “James, my sweet son.”  
The little boy needed no further encouragement. He ran to his father and hit him with enough force for Jean-Luc to have to quickly brace himself by dropping one arm and putting his hand on the floor behind him. “Hey!” he said as he chuckled. “Hey, James, steady on.”

Beverly had moved to be closer to her husband and squatted before him. “Someone else wants to see you.” she said as she undid the carry cocoon. Elly caught sight of her father and grinned widely. Her arms opened and Jean-Luc managed to gently manoeuvre James to one side, so as to allow him to embrace his little daughter, while still embracing his son.  
“Hello, little Elly.” he said as his eyes closed in joy. “Papa has missed you.” He opened his eyes and they filled with tears as he caught Beverly’s gaze. “I’ve missed all of you so much.”  
Somehow Beverly managed to raise a watery smile. “And we’ve missed you. Very much.” Her voice broke and she could say nothing more.  
Deanna, standing to one side, watched with mixed emotions. She was pleased the initial reunion had gone well, but her happiness was tinged by the fact that her partner, Will Riker, had not returned yet. No one had been able to tell her when the Enterprise would return to Earth and until it did; she would just have to wait. Not necessarily patiently.

When Katya first saw the security head, she was unimpressed by his physical appearance. He was a human and seemed to be in his thirties. Short-cropped sandy hair topped a face of unremarkable features. Pale blue eyes, short straight nose, and a firm chin. He was of average height, but stockily built. And he moved and held himself with uncommon grace, and yet with undeniable power.  
Katya may have been unimpressed with his appearance, but there was no doubt she had confidence in his abilities. He exuded self-assuredness. He introduced himself by name and title, and asked her to use his given name, which was Peter.  
“So, Ms. Kurnov, you’re aware I’ve spoken to Dr. Chalmers?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good. And may I ask, have you spoken to him since my conversation with him?”  
“Yes, I have.”  
“I see.” The SH nodded slowly as his gaze sharpened. “What did he tell you about that interview?”  
Katya shrugged and tried to appear unperturbed. The butterflies in her stomach and her racing heart told another story entirely. “Oh,” she said, offering a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, yeah, he mentioned that he told you about the sexual assaults.”  
“The one perpetrated by Captain Jean-Luc Picard while you were with him and his family on Haven. Correct?”  
Katya shifted in her chair and struggled to contain her rapidly rising panic. “Look, Peter,” she said and then took a deep, steadying breath. “we don’t have to rehash all of that, do we? It was a bad thing that happened. It’s over it and I’m … I’m recovering. Okay? Let’s just move on.”

“I’m sure you are recovering.” Peter’s tone was gentle. “But I have a problem, Ms. Kurnov.”   
Before he could say anything further, Katya interrupted with, “Katya! For fuck’s sake, call me Katya.”  
Peter’s smile was quick and carried genuine warmth. “Thank you.”  
His soft reply caught her off guard. She’d expected something else. Something more formal.  
“My problem, Katya,” he smiled again, this time apologetically, “is that I now believe that the attempts on your life are somehow linked to those assaults.”  
Katya said nothing for a few long, tense moments as she strove to find the confidence in this man, one she’d only just met, to confess that she’d reached the same conclusion.  
Eventually she sighed and said, “Yeah,” softly. “yeah, I feel the same thing.”  
Peter’s eyebrows rose. “Do you? Now that’s very interesting, don’t you think?”  
Katya’s brows knitted. “Why?” she asked warily. “Why do you find that interesting?”

Peter shrugged as he spread his hands. “That you’ve reached the same conclusion that I have, but more than that, I’m extremely interested to know how you arrived at it. Did you follow the same path as I did, or did you find another way? A different path?”  
Despite her wariness, her panic, Katya gave his words some consideration. She quickly came to a point where she believed she understood the question he’d posed. “Ok, so you got there after Tom told you about what’d happened to me.”  
Peter nodded silently, encouraging Katya to continue. “Right. Well I got there simply because of something I remembered.” She held up her hand to stop any obvious questions. “Not about the assaults.” She shook her head as she mentally brushed away the memories. “It was about our research … Tom and mine.”  
Peter had heard the plural of the words she’d used, assaults, and filed it away for further investigation. He remained silent as Katya continued.   
“I’m not exactly sure how much I can tell you from a technologically confidential perspective, I did sign some documents that protect the intellectual property of GWT.”   
Peter nodded his understanding. “I guess all I can tell you is that Tom and I discovered something in our research that changed the playing field for warp drive propulsion. As we were required to do, we sent our results straight to head office.” She sighed and made an irritated shake of her head. “It was canned!”   
Katya saw the confused look on the security head’s’s face and hurried to elaborate. “We’d found something really unique; really out there in terms of what’d been known about WD … warp dynamics,” she clarified. “It had the potential to be a huge profit winner for GWT. I mean …really huge. But nothing happened. We were told to forget that branch of our research, to simply walk away from what we’d been working on for fucking months…” She paused to regain control of her rising anger. “And so, we did. Not like we had much choice.”

“How did that cause you to link what ensued with the assaults?”  
“Sally McCormack.” Katya spat bitterly. “That bitch knew, she knew what had happened to me and she used that to goad me because of my friendship with Tom. She deliberately targeted him, she seduced him, but only because she knew we were close.” Katya sighed sadly. “I fucked up. I fucked up so badly by reacting to her provocation.” She waved vaguely. “So now I’m here. In the loony bin and charged with assault.”  
“If we can prove the connection between Carl McCormack and what’s happened to you … specifically the attempts on your life, then I seriously doubt you’ll be held accountable for what ensued.”  
“Maybe.” Katya sighed. “At this point I don’t care. It’s not like I have any significant input.”  
“You certainly do have input, Katya.” Peter gave the young woman an uncompromising look. “It’s information like yours that gives us the ammunition we need to broaden our investigation and bring down those like Carl McCormack.”  
“Sally.” Katya said softly.  
“Pardon?”  
“Sally McCormack. As much as I hate her, I’ve come to believe she’s a victim too … a victim of her uncle, Carl McCormack. The sexual predator.”  
“Yes, I’ve been told that.”  
Katya gave the man a long look. “So, are you doing anything about it?”  
“With every new piece of evidence against him, we gain more purchase to widen our investigation.”  
“So, you’ve done nothing.” Katya said derisively.  
“No, that’s not true. We’re moving against him, Katya, but such is his power, his connectedness, that we must be cautious. If we move too quickly … unprepared … we risk the opportunity to get him. We must be on more than solid ground. We have to be on rock solid foundations.”

“Yeah, well.” Katya sighed. “Good luck with that.”  
Peter let the moment pass before asking, “Is there anyone else I can talk to about the McCormacks? Either of them?”  
Katya gave the question some thought before offering a one shoulder shrug. “Most of the tech staff at GWT would have something to say about Sally and most of what you’d hear would be pretty derogatory. She’s one of those people you either love or hate. But those who’d professed to love her would be either a lap dog, you know, a natural sycophant, or she’d have some kind of hold over them, so their declarations of devotion would be complete and utter bullshit.”  
She pursed her lips and then nodded. “Yeah.” she said as if agreeing with an unspoken thought. “Carl has a PA, a man called Calvin Ebson. You know that woman who was killed when I was talking to her outside, in the gardens?”  
The SH nodded.  
“She’d been giving me information about stuff over the last few months at GWT. Once I knew what kind of person Sally was, I wanted to make sure my private business stayed private. Paying a confidant seem a wise investment.” Katya sighed sadly and shook her head. “I never thought it might put her life at risk…”  
“You’re not to blame for her death, Katya.”  
“Yeah, I know … but still…” She looked up at Peter and her distress was plain to see. “My regret is pointless. You don’t come back from dead.”  
Peter said nothing and his gentle silence encouraged Katya to continue. “Just before she was killed, she told me that McCormack’s PA was gathering evidence against him. Apparently Ebson’s cousin was abused by McCormack when she was little. It was the kind of stuff we’d … Tom and I, had been hoping to get our hands on, to help me defend my case.”  
“Now that’s something I can work with.” Peter smiled.  
Katya gave him a long look, then asked, “So what about the Andorian? The female who was the first to interview me after my informant was killed. And, for that matter, what about the weird DNA thing with the killer? The Andorian had told me there was a tenuous link to McCormack through that.”

“There was,” Peter replied guardedly, “however, that side of the investigation is being carried out by others. As for my Andorian colleague, she continues to work diligently on your case and everything we uncover is shared. Rest assured, Katya, there are a lot of talented, resourceful, and determined people working on this.”  
He smiled, but the expression quickly gave way to a more serious expression. “When we move against the suspects, it will be only after we’ve gathered all the evidence there is.”  
He stood and seemed to flex his body slightly. Katya thought he was leaving. He was, but not quite yet. “When I came in on this case, I thought it was a straightforward one. And yet the longer I work on it, the more I discover about it, the bigger and more complicated it becomes.” He snorted and shook his head. “And the bigger the suspected guilty parties get. By the gods … Carl McCormack. They don’t get much bigger than him.”  
“The bigger they are…” Katya’s eyebrows rose.  
“The harder they fall.” Peter finished and offered a wry smile. “Yes, I’m familiar with the saying, I frequently encounter it in action in my line of work.” He gave the listening woman a speculative look and seemed to arrive at a decision.  
“The details don’t concern you, Katya, but I can tell you that our investigation is uncovering matters of huge proportions. Once we move, the results will reverberate through many worlds … and at an exceptionally high level. The upper echelons of a lot of corporations, world governments and even the Federation Council may become extremely nervous.”  
Katya shrugged. “It’s only the guilty who need to be scared.”  
“Ture enough.” Peter agreed affably. He then held up his right index finger. “And yet for me personally, the bottom line is you. Exonerating you. Finding the evidence that will adequately explain why you acted as you did and in so doing, grant you the justice you deserve.”  
“Thank you, Peter.” she smiled and then added quietly, “And if that leads you to bringing down others … the big players … then go for it. I’ll testify to what was done to me in open court.”  
“I hope you won’t have to, Katya, I really do. There are too many people who’ve already been damaged by this … this … clusterfuck.”  
“Yeah.” Katya’s tone carried her sadness.

“Well.” Peter adopted a far more positive attitude. “I’ll leave you now, I have some questions to put to some people.”  
Katya rose and gave the man a warm smile. “Thanks for everything you’re doing, mate.”  
“Mate?” Peter chuckled at the word. “I’m honoured. Thank you, Katya. You’ve been very brave. It’s appreciated; I know how hard it was.”  
Nothing more was said as he left the room.

Beverly felt nervous as she ushered her family into the flat she shared with Deanna. The counsellor had opted to stay away, choosing to spend some time in a local park and then to enjoy a meal at a nearby restaurant to give the reunited family the privacy they needed.  
Jean-Luc, who had Elly in his arms, smiled as he took in the stunning view of San Francisco. James stood on one side of him, Beverly on the other. “This is lovely,” he remarked. “you chose well.”  
Beverly’s reply was marred by her derisive laugh. “Not my choice, or Deanna’s.”  
He turned; an eyebrow arched in silent query. Beverly gave a dismissive wave of her hand as she explained. “This was chosen for us, Jean-Luc, and while I’m not complaining, it’s just another example of having one’s autonomy stripped.” There followed a lengthy silence, not necessarily uncomfortable, but the underlying tension was clear.  
Jean-Luc breached the silence by asking quietly, “Who chose, Beverly?”   
Instead of answering his question directly, Beverly opted to approach it indirectly. “Do you know the identities of all the fleet admirals in Starfleet?”  
“Fleet admirals?” Jean-Luc’s surprise at the query was obvious. “Yes, I think so.”  
“How many are there.?”  
“Two.”

“And is one of those a female who chooses to work in a really big arboretum?”  
“No. The two FAs I know are both male and work at Command.”  
“Ah.” Beverly snorted and gave a shrug. “Well, Deanna and I have been summoned twice to meet with a female FA in a damned jungle.”  
“A jungle?” Jean-Luc responded cautiously.  
“Yes!” The doctor shook her head in disbelief and incredulity. “The meetings place was held in a heavily vegetated space … I’ve absolutely no idea where it was, although we did access it through the Command building.” She gave a wry laugh. “It was a very long walk to get there, though.”   
“And you met a fleet admiral?”

“Yes, and, believe me, I was just as surprised as you to find this person … especially given the circumstances.”  
Jean-Luc gave that some thought as he gently rocked his daughter. “So,” he asked quietly, “what did she want? Why were you and Deanna summoned?”  
Beverly gave a frustrated snort. “This is all so damned convoluted, Jean-Luc. We’d been getting some information from a commander, an officer who’d contacted us after we tried to get some idea of where you and Will had gone. Somehow that contact triggered our summons, but I’ve no idea how that occurred.”  
The doctor sighed in helplessness. “It came out of the blue. The only upside is that the FA gave us assurances that we’d be kept in the loop about your status … you and Will.” she clarified. “At least to a point.”  
Jean-Luc bent and gently placed his daughter on a padded mat on the floor. He then dropped to one knee and said to James, “Would you look after Elly for a little while, James? Maman and I need to talk.”  
The little boy gave his father a wide smile. “Ok, papa. I can do that.”  
The captain ruffled his son’s hair and placed a kiss on his brow. “Merci beaucoup.”

Beverly watched this interaction with great warmth. “You’re such a good father.” she mused to herself. After James had settled down with his sister, Beverly continued their conversation.  
“She gave us reason to hope, Jean-Luc. The commander had been helpful, but the FA actively involved us. Our first meeting with her was guarded, yet it left us encouraged. The next meeting … well as it was to tell us that you’d been successful and were coming home? It was what we’d been hoping for.”  
Jean-Luc nodded, thinking of how hard it must have been for his wife and Deanna.   
“But as to your actual mission?” Beverly sighed with irritation, “We had no idea.”  
“And I’m not sure I can elaborate on that, Beverly.” Jean-Luc sighed with frustration. “I’m bound by security restrictions.”  
“Yeah, I get that.” There was bitterness in her tone.  
“Look,” Jean-Luc said gently. “If SFC felt that the mission was critical, then we just have to accept it. We don’t have to like it, though.”  
“Ha!” Beverly blurted. “No, we don’t.”  
“Have you had any further contact with the FA?”

“No.”  
“Then I can only suggest that you probably won’t.”  
“Agreed, but who was she, Jean-Luc? She told us about how there’s now a connection between SFC and the Federation Council. An active connection, a real-time active connection between the two. How is that possible? And when did that start?”  
The man shrugged. “I’ve no idea.” He gave it some rapid thought and added, “All I can say is that it makes sense. There has always existed a difficulty between the Federation Council and Starfleet, as far as implementation of policy was concerned. One was supposed to support the other, but in actuality it was far more common to encounter the opposite. Whatever policy was deemed appropriate sometimes caused great difficulty in application.”  
“Okay, but where does that leave us?” Beverly gestured between them. “Which puppet master do we answer to?”  
“The highest ranked.” Jean-Luc shrugged. “This isn’t about choice, Beverly. As long as we remain in Starfleet, we act on the behest of our superiors.”  
“Yeah.” Beverly’s tone carried her bitterness. “Regardless.”  
Jean-Luc moved closer to his wife and noted how she flinched. She did her best to hide it, but it spoke volumes. “The very fact that the fleet admiral chose to involve you and Deanna in the ongoing mission … I can’t help but view that in a positive light.”  
“Fair point.” Beverly conceded. “But it wasn’t as if we could do anything with what she told us.”  
“Agreed. But if you, indeed all of us, are members of Starfleet, we must submit to the decisions made of those above us.”  
“Yeah. As long as we remain in Starfleet.”

Jean-Luc’s frown carried his worry. “You’re considering your options?”  
Beverly shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked harshly. “This whole,” she lowered her voice, “shitshow was because we had to obey. I’ve got to tell you, Jean-Luc, that obedience is wearing precariously thin.”  
Before he could respond, the flat’s communication system activated with a chime. An annoyed Beverly went to the monitor and stabbed it with her finger. The image was not someone she recognised, but their expression was kindly. “Doctor Picard, you are summoned, along with your husband, to a meeting. Please present to these coordinates by 14.30 hours today.”  
There was no opportunity to respond, the monitor went blank. Although she suspected the futility of the attempt, Beverly tried to access the origin of the communique. She was unsuccessful. “Jesus!” she thought angrily, “he’s only just returned home…” The inevitability of the situation caused her to sigh sadly as she turned and said, “Case in point.” she snapped harshly. “We have an appointment. Not that we can refuse it.”  
The captain frowned and asked, “With whom?”  
Beverly’s expression showed her anger and derision clearly. “Not specified, but I’d lay odds it’s with that fleet admiral I’ve told you about.”  
“Very well.” Jean-Luc sighed. “But if it leads us to any more information about my mission and what happened to us, that is you, our children and ensign Kurnov, then I can’t help but view it as another positive sign.”  
“Then you’re far more optimistic than I am, Jean-Luc.”

Beverly gave her husband the details of their upcoming appointment and then contacted Deanna. It was no surprise to hear she had received the same summons.  
“So, I’ll meet you there?” Deanna said, a small smile emerging. Her expression was contagious, causing Beverly to chuckle. “Yup. I’ll identify you by your armour.”  
“Oh!” Deanna feigned shock. “You’ve figured it out? Was it the metal cladding, or the obvious display of weaponry?”  
“Ha!” Beverly barked delightedly. “Both! You should work on your appearance. Advertising your defences is an unwise strategy.”  
Deann’s smile was a warm one. “Yes,” she chuckled, “I’ll have to get on to something about to that.”  
It was Jean-Luc who interjected with, “So, we’ll meet you at the appointed time?”  
“Yes, Captain.” Deanna responded respectfully. “I’ll be there.”  
“Good.” he replied curtly. “Perhaps our questions are about to be answered.”  
“I certainly hope so, sir, but be prepared to be disappointed. There’s so much … so much more going on than we can even guess. Whether or not those in charge deem to share the details? That remains to be seen.”  
“Agreed, Counsellor.” Jean-Luc’s reply carried his weariness. “Picard out.”

James and Elly were dropped off at a creche, allowing the adults to arrive at the coordinates at the appointed time. As had occurred before, the group was met by the female commander and a long walk began. At first their progress was at the street level but soon they’d descended into tunnels beneath the city. Beverly and Deanna were somewhat surprised by this. The coordinates had been nowhere near the Command building and yet it seemed obvious they were going back to the strange arboretum.  
Things became further confusing when, after walking what seemed to be a kilometre or two, they were ushered into a small vehicle. There was no driver, the commander remained behind as the silent, open, little car moved quickly through the well-lit subterranean passages, its course remotely controlled via computer.  
After perhaps fifteen minutes, Deann’s head suddenly lifted and she murmured quietly, “I’m sensing some powerful minds.” 

Before Jean-Luc or Beverly could ask for details, the counsellor added, “Close. Two, perhaps three individuals … and some others, though not as powerful.”  
The speed of their vehicle began to slow and eventually came to a stop. The tunnel continued into the distance, and behind them, the same. The three were left perplexed.  
“Do we get out?” Beverly asked warily. Jean-Luc looked around, noting there wasn’t much room either side of the car.  
“I don’t think so.” he replied. Deanna’s voice was barely audible as she warned, “They’re approaching.”  
Responding in an equally soft whisper, Jean-Luc’s growing tension was obvious as he asked, “From where? Which direction?”   
Deanna’s head turned slowly to her left and slightly up. Jean-Luc stared at the featureless, grey, curved wall. He was about to ask Deanna for more information when a section of the tunnel simply vanished. He heard his wife utter a soft profanity and, despite the tension and the uncertainty he felt, it was hard to suppress the grim smile that wanted to emerge. Trust his wife to react audibly. He’d said the same thing, only it wasn’t aloud.  
“Please forgive this dramatic theatre, Captain Picard,” said the being, suddenly standing before them. “I do assure you, however, it was necessary.” 

The speaker was a female of a species Jean-Luc was unfamiliar with. She was of small stature and seemed to be well-advanced in age. He noted her slight stoop and the thin, claw-like appearance of her hands. Her skin was so fine as to be translucent.  
The captain glanced at Beverly and saw her imperceptible nod, confirming his silent question. The elderly female was the fleet admiral.  
“You have me at a disadvantage, sir.” The words had been spoken softly, yet clearly carried Jean-Luc’s calm authority. His response made the female smile. It was a kindly expression, though in the depths of her eyes the captain could see steely determination.  
“Ah, yes.” Her smile grew. “The introductions.” Despite her stooped appearance, she bowed easily. The gesture surprised Jean-Luc. He didn’t react, though. “By now you would be aware that Doctor Picard and Counsellor Troi have identified me as the fleet admiral they have met twice previously.  
Seeing no point in indulging in any verbal sparring or denials, Jean-Luc gave a respectful inclination of his head. However, he didn’t speak. The FA nodded approvingly. “You are remarkable, Captain. Choosing to hedge your bets while you try to work out just what it is that’s going on.”

“And what is that sir?” Although a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, his eyes were gimlet-like. “Just what is going on?”  
“Much.” The old female sighed. “A great deal, Captain, and it’s been going on for a very long time.”  
Beverly moved to stand closer to her husband. He felt her hand brush his and it gave him a wonderful rush of love and confidence. Deanna gasped as she realised the female felt it too. The old eyes turned to her and a soft voice was heard in her mind. “Yes, Counsellor, we are telepathic.”  
Deanna shot back, “But I didn’t sense anything before. The other times when we met you.” she clarified hastily.  
“Because we blocked you.”  
“We?”

To respond to Deanna’s silently asked question, the FA refocused on Jean-Luc and spoke aloud. “Your questions will be answered, Captain, we will hold nothing back. The time has come.”  
She gestured with her hands and, as the three entered the now open area of tunnel, he saw there were others. Some the same species as the old female, and others unknown to him.  
One sentence kept repeating in Jean-Luc’s mind. “Time for what?”

The Andorian security officer smiled at Peter. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to decide if the smile was genuine or condescending. Having known this officer for some years, and respecting her, he opted for the former.   
“When you say there’s more, what do you mean, exactly?”  
His question was asked mildly, but there was no doubt it was couched in wariness.  
The blue-tinged female’s smile widened. “Just as I said and nothing else.” she replied cryptically. It was at this point that Peter’s patience began to wear precariously thin. “I’m afraid that won’t do, Lieutenant. I want specifics.” He took a deep, calming breath. “This case is turning into the biggest of my career. It involves the big wigs of the Fed Council, Starfleet, and some very influential people in the private sector. Not only that, but there are critical matters of galactic security in play here. The stuff we’re uncovering…”  
“I understand, sir.” the Andorian interrupted, her tone curt. That earned her a cold stare of rebuke. She briefly closed her eyes as her antennae laid back before erecting again. “My apologies, sir.” she began again, respectfully. “It’s just that I’m privy to things you are not.”

Peter’s mouth opened in shocked surprise, but her raised hands forestalled any protest. “Please, sir, hear me out. I will explain what I can, but ultimately you’re going to have to go to my source,” There was an apologetic smile as she added, “my superiors.”   
Peter’s slight gape and wide eyes showed his disbelief. “I am your superior.” he uttered quietly. “You shouldn’t be in possession of any information from those above you. That is my purview.”  
Again, the female gave an apologetic gesture. “Yes, sir, I’m aware of that. But…” she shrugged, and her antennae jerked back and forth. “you’re not my superior.”  
“My rank says otherwise, Lieutenant.” Peter snarled.  
His emphasis of her rank made her smile wryly. “Yes, sir, that’s how it appears, but that’s not how it actually is.” She frowned as she searched for the right words. “I belong to something … bigger. Something beyond the Federation Council, something beyond Starfleet.” She grimaced with distaste as she continued, “And something far beyond the corrupt moguls of the private sector. There are greater, more powerful forces at work here, sir. I’m part of that, part of a better way.”  
“A better way?” The security head spat. “So, the Federation has been infiltrated? Invaded by an alien species?”  
“No, sir. It’s a collaboration, a mutually agreed upon and accepted partnership, carried out for well over a century.”

“A century?” Peter gasped. “Are you telling me that the Federation … that Starfleet has been corrupted? Used to serve an alien agenda?”  
“No, sir!” The Andorian spat, her patience waning. She strove to regain calm, not an easy thing for such a tempestuous species. “What began so long ago may have once been covert, but for over a hundred years now has been undertaken with full participation of all parties.”  
“Full participation?” Peter said derisively. “That’s what all conquerors claim.”  
The female quickly decided she was getting nowhere and was unlikely to win the human over any time soon. “Look, sir,” she said sharply as she held up her hands. “You need to speak to my superiors.” She sighed and added quietly, “and so will Ms.Kurnov and Dr. Chalmers.”  
“I see.” The security head’s tone carried his confusion and his defeat. “Very well.”  
He didn’t expect the immediate beam out.

When Jean-Luc, Beverly and Deanna entered the wooded area, the two women smiled. The captain saw this and correctly assumed that they had reached the large arboretum that had been described to him previously. “So,” he mused silently, “whatever this is, this seems to be the seat of it.”  
He heard other voices, some aggressive and obviously stressed, others calm and placatory. As the little group entered the clearing, all the voices fell silent.  
As the doctor surveyed the gathered people, Beverly quietly muttered, “What the hell is this?” She noticed Katya and Tom were among the gathered beings and sent them a guarded smile.  
Jean-Luc agreed with his wife query. There was a moderately large group of beings of several species gathered around a long table, incongruously covered with platters of finger foods and frosted jugs of unidentifiable liquids, surrounded by tall, moisture-beaded and frosted glasses. He too saw Katya and made sure he didn’t make eye contact with her.

“Good god, it looks like an outdoor reunion of some sort.” he mused sarcastically but silently. He shook his head and sighed. “Well,” he muttered aloud, “Let’s see what’s going on.”  
Beverly heard her husband’s comment and gave him a gentle nudge as she murmured, “Apart from the FA, you seem to be the next highest ranked officer here.”  
He glanced at the gathered beings to confirm her observation and agreed, taking that as the acknowledgement he needed to speak up. “Can I please speak, please?” he said loudly. That brought a sudden stillness and all eyes turned to him. Yet before he could say anything, the elderly female preempted him.   
“I have been authorised by my people to share all our information, to disseminate, to inform all parties. All those involved,” she made a sweeping gesture with her arm, “about what has been happening...”  
“Yes,” Jean-Luc said coolly, “but about can we be assured we’ll receive all of that information? About what’s been happening?” He emphasised her words, repeating them with suspicion. His jaw clenched as he raised his voice. “What have your people done?” He glared and pointed aggressively. “And for that matter, just who are you?” 

The old female bowed her head, hiding a wry smile. When she addressed the angry human, she controlled the urge to smile and instead presented him with a sombre visage. “Who we are, as a species, isn’t relevant, Captain, we exist in many physical forms and have just as many names. What is relevant is that well over a century ago, my people encountered yours, not humans specifically, but those of the Federation of Planets.”  
A smile escaped her control, but it was an expression of genuine warmth. “And we were impressed. We were extremely impressed by the ideals, by the ethics of your galactic partners’ unity … and we decided that your United Federation of Planets was worthy of assistance.”  
Jean-Luc stayed silent as she gathered her thoughts. “That assistance was at a minimum at first, but as your expansion … as more and more worlds opted to join your nascent Federation, we knew our help would have to increase … to grow, to expand.”  
Katya couldn’t contain herself as she commented dryly, “Did the Federation have a choice?”  
“Yes,” the old female replied calmly. “They did … to a point.”  
“Meaning?” Jean-Luc’s query easily carried his anger, though it was carefully controlled.

“Captain Picard,” the alien female said, with gentle, placation “we had to balance what was occurring around us with what we suspected was going to ensue if we did nothing. We are able to look into the future. Some of the futures we saw were simply unacceptable. We opted for caution, for us, and yes, for you. There were forces at work that none of you were aware of. And that includes those of Vulcan, your initial partner in your grand venture. If what we suspected were allowed to happen, there would’ve been wholesale devastation … wholesale slaughter on a scale I doubt you could imagine.”  
Jean-Luc’s already pale skin blanched further. “The Borg?” he said with quiet dread.  
“Yes, that was one factor.” the female acceded with a sad sigh. “But there were others, Captain … other species even more aggressive … and pervasive … than the Borg. We have prevented their interference and in doing so we hope that you, your Federation, will never have to engage with them again, at least not until you’re strong enough to resist those who seek to destroy, all of them, successfully.”  
Beverly raised her hand to gesture to the old female. “But why?” she shook her hand as she sought the right words. “You’ve explained that you foresaw our destruction, but why did you help us? What was in it for you? For your people?”  
Jean-Luc took up the question. “Yes, indeed, why? Did your species have an ulterior motive? Is there a long game in play here?”

There was an apologetic expression on the female’s face when she replied. “Yes, Captain, there was.” She sighed and pointed a thin, crooked finger at him. “Would you not do anything in your power to preserve your species? Especially if you were given the opportunity to assist an as-yet unfulfilled, but potentially wonderful entity, who you believed would eventually make your existence more probable?”  
Jean-Luc’s gaze was steady and uncompromising as he gave his reply. “Yes, I probably would, but it seems your people have far more information about what’s to come than mine.”  
“True.” the old woman chuckled quietly. “And, as much as it may vex you, I cannot elaborate on that, suffice it to say that we knew we had chosen correctly.” Her gentle amusement faded as she sobered considerably.   
“But that is not why you and the others,” she gestured to those gathered, “the presence of you, Doctor Picard, Counsellor Troi and,” she turned slightly and gestured to the couple standing nearby, “and of course, Ms. Kurnov and Doctor Chalmers, was requested.” Jean-Luc’s mouth opened to protest and ask the obvious, but a compelling look from the alien female effectively silenced him. 

“Everyone here,” she swept her wizened arm in an all-encompassing arc. “Everyone here is tied, is bound by the events that drew you in. What happened to you, your family, and Ms. Kurnov on Haven and what followed … the aftereffects, the murders, the investigations … they are all linked.”  
She turned to address Katya. “Ms. Kurnov, you and Doctor Chalmers had been working on warp dynamics and in so doing, stumbled upon a new and exciting propulsion system. But Ms. Kurnov, you were only working at GWT because of what happened on Haven.”

Katya nodded mutely.  
“And you, Doctor Chalmers. You were drawn in by both your mutual discovery with Ms. Kurnov and your friendship with her, your support of her.”   
The female offered a sad smile. “That in turn, brought Sally McCormack into it. Her uncle, Carl McCormack, had already garnered our attention long ago. Thus, what happened when Sally successfully provoked you, Ms. Kurnov; a traumatised and fragile victim, into a predictable reaction, provided us with the ways and means to end what had been occurring for far too long.”  
She turned again to face Jean-Luc, Beverly, and Deanna. “Doctor Picard, we are so sorry about what happened to you and your children. For all our foresight, we had not envisaged the scenario you were caught up in.”   
An audible sigh was heard as she turned her attention to Katya. “You were on Haven to assist the Picard family by helping with their children, Ms. Kurnov. What happened to you as a result is tragic and pains us deeply.”   
She then gestured to Deanna, “And we apologise to you, Counsellor, in being made to stand by and watch as your life partner was sent on a dangerous mission, one inexorably linked to the preceding events. Also, that in being the one to attempt to help, through counselling, your friends. It must have been a very daunting prospect.”  
Deanna nodded mutely, words unnecessary.

The alien’s focus then returned to Jean-Luc. “Then there is you, Captain Picard.” The elderly being offered a deep, sad sigh. “If we could have prevented what ensued, please understand we would have. Everything took an ever-increasing change of course. Lannit Yan and Twenth. Rurke, the broker. We knew the Tholian would be involved somehow …” she sighed again, “yet the scale of his interference, the scope of what he intended …” A sad shake of her head brought silence for a few moments.  
“It’s a lesson, Captain, a timely lesson to us all, that despite the ability to see into the future, what you see may not arrive quite as you expected.” Her expression became determined. “Yet arrive it will. The end result has been achieved and time, and the affects therein, are proceeding as they should.”  
“Stop.” Jean-Luc barked as his fingertips rubbed his left temple. “I … we, need more, more details. Who are you? What is your influence over the Federation Council and Starfleet?”  
“Captain,” the female said kindly, but then reconsidered what she’d been about to say, something placatory. Instead she addressed his questions directly. “Think of us as an entity very much like your Federation of Planets. We are a confederation of many worlds, formed over a millennia ago. We found that our collective power afforded us the ability to see some versions of the future. And so, we looked and discovered we no longer existed there, in the many futures we saw, but not all. That gave us the determination to find someone, a single species would’ve sufficed, yet we hoped for more, for us to guide towards an ethical, non-aggressive, non-expansionist entity through which we might preserve our existence. Our choice was carefully considered, we didn’t want to assist empire builders, Captain, but those who chose to expand through peaceful cooperation.” She smiled warmly and gestured towards him. “And we were so happy, and greatly relieved, to find the then fledgling Federation of Planets.” She smiled warmly.

“Now, seeing possible futures is helpful,” the FA continued, “however, as I’ve already told you, how a future is achieved gives no indication of what must occur to get there. Our guidance was based on what we knew of a possible outcome. We gave unedited, uncensored accounts of what we knew to some selected and therefore trusted individuals within the Federation and then, knowing that the precepts and ideals of the Federation would guide you collectively, withdrew and waited, in hope, that what we had foreseen for us, in many futures, would not eventuate.   
“As time wore on and our efforts were rewarded, we began to take a more active role within those entities that served to drive your organisations. Using beings from all the Federations’ member worlds, we inserted facilitators, beings who were willing to work towards a common goal, both for you and for us”  
“One that you determined!” Beverly shouted. “Did we have a choice?”

“Yes, Doctor, you did.” The old female replied firmly. “At no time was anyone coerced. No one was deceived. For those we chose to disclose to, they were given the freedom to reject our help at any time.” The female turned and gestured to the people gathered around the table. “The investigators, our Andorian friend and her superior, who is only now, like you, learning of the reality of everything, worked diligently to find the evidence required to have Carl McCormack charged with multiple offences, because it was important that he be tried under your jurisprudence systems. That he be answerable to those he’d wronged and betrayed.  
“We work with you, not in place of you. Your destiny was always your own. We may have known possible outcomes of the future, but how you, we, got there was up to you.”  
Jean-Luc’s voice was quiet, yet determined when he said, “You still haven’t answered a crucial question. What was in this for you?”  
There was a long, poignant silence before the old female sighed and said softly, “Existence.”

She beckoned to Katya, Deanna, and Tom, and they moved closer to the family. “Over a century ago we began to see futures were we no longer existed. We couldn’t discern how that occurred; all we could do was to keep looking at the futures that had us in them. From those we searched for a future that best mirrored our ideals, those who espoused peace, prosperity, and equity for all those within our sphere of influence, were those we sought. Sadly, there weren’t many to choose from. And of the few who showed their yet unfulfilled promise, who exhibited real potential, the newly formed Federation of Planets was by far the most hopeful.”  
She smiled and Jean-Luc thought he saw the glistening of a tear as she said, “We chose well, Captain. The Federation we found grew quickly and the things you learned along the way …” she gave a respectful nod, “for instance, with no help whatsoever from us, you formulated the Prime Directive. Yes, it may have come about because of some clearly arrogant and misguided actions that had terrible, though unintended consequences, yet you still learned those hard-won lessons. You took the necessary steps to try to prevent such things from ever happening again. It’s instances like that which reinforced the wisdom of our choosing you.” She smiled and her eyes carried her warmth. “And our hopes for you as well as our trust in you.”

“So, there are operatives seeded within Starfleet and the Federation Council?” Jean-Luc’s tone was wary. He was trying to understand but it was difficult.  
The female knew this and strove to reassure him. “That’s one way of putting it, Captain, though words like that imply something covertly underhand, that our intention was deleterious, or sinister.”   
Before Jean-Luc could offer any reaction, the female continued. “It was most definitely not. Consider this, Captain Picard. Not one of those we asked to help us, members from the worlds of the Federation, refused us. Once we’d disclosed our motives and intentions there was unanimous agreement and unequivocal support. We are not malevolent, Captain, we have no political or social agenda. We simply want to exist.”  
Jean-Luc took a deep breath as he considered what she’d said. It was beginning to make sense and he began to see the situation in a kinder, more accepting light. Though he was still somewhat uneasy, he had to admit, grudgingly, that what he was being told seemed to be both benign and acceptable.

He offered a cautious smile. “Can we assume that, in the future you decided upon, that the Federation is doing well? That we are … prospering?”  
“Yes!” The female exclaimed with a chuckle. She curbed her delight and expanded on her comment. “Yes,” she said in a calmer tone. “Indeed, yes, Captain Picard. The Federation we saw in the future had prospered.” She then became sombre. “But there are some things we need to do in the here and now. We feel what happened in the events that lead to here, what happened to you, your family, Ms. Kurnov and, by extension, to Councellor Troi and Doctor Chalmers, should be ameliorated. We can help you all with that, Captain.”  
“Help us?” The wariness had returned.  
“Yes.” The female smiled reassuringly. “There are things we can do to assist with your recovery, Captain.” She then gestured to the others. “All of you.”  
Beverly spoke up. “A memory wipe?”

“No.” The FA said firmly, but kindly. “We know that would eventually prove to be counterproductive. Humans,” she smiled in wry humour, “don’t like unexplained gaps in their memory. It causes discontent and ultimately, distrust.”  
Beverly’s nod showed her acceptance of the explanation. “Yes, it does.” she affirmed quietly.  
“So,” the FA gestured with her hand, “with that in mind, we can offer something a little gentler, something far more acceptable.”  
“Such as?” Beverly’s skepticism was obvious.

“Nothing pervasive or damaging, Doctor Picard. As with all our interactions, we strive for the less disruptive. No,” she reassured as she smiled, “we won’t do anything that damages.”  
“But we have only your word for that.” Beverly sighed. “Are we to assume that you’re offering some kind of psychological manipulation? Some way for us,” she gestured to her loved ones and friends, “to cope with the fallout from what happened to us?”  
Deanna spoke up then. She was cautiously positive about what the alien was saying, but agreed with Beverly’s need for clarification. “Yes,” she affirmed, “just what is entailed. And will there be any residual effects of what you intend to do?”  
“We won’t do anything that causes damage.Yes,” the female reaffirmed and then sighed as she searched for the right words. Having found them she smiled.. “though not manipulation per se, we have the ability to soften your memories, to assist in making those memories easier to bear and therefore less traumatic.”

Beverly first looked to her husband and then to Deanna and Katya. She received cautious nods. “Ok,” she said warily, “what’s involved?”  
“Very little.” The FA’s smile was warm and confident. “We simply connect, through those of our wide variety of species who possess the ability, to your minds. Once that connection is established, it’s possible to take the memories of your trauma and …” she rolled her hand to find the right words, “to take the distress from them.” She opened her hands in a giving gesture. “To take away their power. To make the memories bearable. Not nearly so damaging.”  
Beverly looked at Jean-Luc and received a smile of acceptance. She then looked att Deanna and Katya and garnered the same reaction. On finding acceptance from Deanna, the doctor nodded to the FA.  
“Ok,” she smiled cautiously. “it seems we’re all on board.”

“I’m gratified.” the old female said, her smile appreciative. “Very well. Once your children have been brought here, we can begin.”  
Jean-Luc stepped forward and said barked firmly, “Our children?”  
The FA bowed her head respectfully. “Yes, Captain Picard, your children.” She held up a hand to silence his predictable protests. “We value and cherish our offspring just as much as you value and cherish yours, Captain, and we know with certainty that what your children went through as you and your wife struggled with the events, that they would’ve been affected. Even your little daughter, so young as she is, would not have been untouched. We have the wherewithal to help them too.”  
Beverly’s comment was guarded, yet hopeful. “And there’s no residual aftereffects? They wouldn’t be aware?”

The elderly female tilted her head, a frown forming as she considered the question. “Not entirely.” The statement was obviously a cautious one. “Our goal here is to make your memories far easier to cope with and in doing so, we are confident that you, all of you, will be able to recover rapidly. As for your children, of the two of them, it is your son who will benefit the most, yet your daughter will not be without a positive outcome.” The FA smiled reassuringly. “As I’ve already said, we don’t intend to remove any memories, rather, we will simply strive to negate the power, the effects of those memories so that everyone involved can overcome the impediments that accessing such undiluted memories would incur.”  
Jean-Luc nodded slowly as he processed what had been said. After sharing a look with his wife and receiving a nod of acceptance, he turned his attention to Katya. “Ms. Kurnov?” he said respectfully. “I welcome your input.”  
She gave her former captain a long look before shrugging. “Yeah,” Katya sighed with acceptance. “I suppose you do.” She took a moment and then shrugged again. “I don’t want to continue to hate you, Picard. On one level I accept what happened wasn’t you fault … but then there are these…” she stabbed at her temples with stiff fingers, “these fucking memories!” 

She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds before expelling it slowly, using the time to regain her composure. “If something can be done to help with that, to strip the images, the experiences of their power, then yeah, I’m all for it.”  
Jean-Luc looked to and received positive responses from Deanna and Tom. He nodded and refocused on the old FA. “It seems we have consensus.”  
The elderly FA was about to say something before Beverly interrupted. “Can we be assured that no other memories will be accessed?”  
“Oh, yes, Doctor Picard!” The alien was quick to reply. “This isn’t about intelligence gathering or an invasion of any privacy. Only the specific memories, those that are unique to your experiences over the relevant events will be accessed. You have my word, nothing else will be seen or touched.”

Beverly nodded and gave a tentative smile. “Well, ok then.”  
“Excellent.” The FA gestured to the table. “We’ve no doubt you’d all like to speak with each other. While we await the arrival of your children, please avail yourselves of some refreshments and seek each other’s input.”  
As the three friends approached the gathering, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but think, “How utterly bizarre.”


	13. Chapter 13

“So, the Tholian and Lannit Yan are both dead?” Jean-Luc’s tone clearly carried his mixed emotions.   
“Yes, Captain.” The FA confirmed as she sighed and shook her head. They were standing to one side, conferring quietly as they watched the others grazing at the table. “Though I’m saddened by the necessity of the actions, I cannot find it within me to regret it or, indeed, to lament their passing.” 

She sighed again and opened her thin hands in a gesture of helplessness. “The Tholian had become too powerful, too enmeshed in his power and thoroughly addicted to it. There was no way to disconnect him completely from his network. It had taken him almost all of his life to create it, his reach was both extraordinary and exceptionally dangerous.”  
Jean-Luc, chewing thoughtfully on a delicately sliced piece of fruit, nodded his agreement. “Indeed,” he murmured, “I was astonished at just how far his reach extended and I was only privy aware of a small portion of it. I’ll probably never know the true scope of his influence.”

By his wry tone and the speculative look, he gave the old female, she understood his comment was actually a tacitly posed question. She smiled enigmatically and inclined her head. “I agree, Captain.” she deflected him elegantly. “I doubt you’ll ever know … or have the need to.”  
Jean-Luc’s inclined head signaled his acceptance of her reply as she addressed his unspoken question. He may not have liked it, but if it had to be that way, then so be it. Any reply was better than none.  
“And then there was Lannit Yan.” The FA continued seamlessly, he tone carried her revulsion. “How such a creature could exist,” she said quietly as she shook her head. “his people, his and Twenth’s,” she amended, “they’re an enlightened species, ones who value’s life, respects it…”

“Anomalies exist in all species, sir.” Jean-Luc interrupted gently. “In a violent species, a perceived anomaly would be an individual who espoused non-violence.” He frowned as he continued, “With Lannit Yan and Twenth it was a worst-case scenario. Two such rarities among their people meeting and teaming up? That was always going to be an appallingly deadly combination.”  
“So many suffered at their hands.” The FA lamented and then placed her hand on Jean-Luc’s forearm. “But I don’t have to tell you that. You of all people, you, and your family … Ms. Kurnov …”  
The captain gently placed his hand over hers. “That is in the past and we’re all looking forward to being able to begin our recovery.” He smiled kindly and then said quietly, “Had Lannit Yan taken females? Females compatible with human males for … breeding?”  
The FA’s expression showed her obvious concern. “You need not worry about that, Captain Picard.”  
“No!” he spat quietly but heatedly. “I do worry! Answer my question. Tell me!” He strove to control his anger and added after a few seconds in a calmer tone, “Please, sir.”  
Belatedly chagrined, the old female curtailed the initial irritation his reaction had caused. “He had taken females from several worlds, Captain,” she said gently, knowing the confirmation would pain him. “at the behest of the broker, but of course the original orders came from the Tholian.”

“Are they safe? Or did he … get to them?”  
“He did not.” The old female stated quietly but firmly. In a softer tone she continued, “With Rurke’s assistance we found them and repatriated all of them. None were harmed … at least not physically.”  
“You’ll help them?” Jean-Luc’s voice was shaking. “Help with their memories?”  
“Yes, that’s already in hand.”   
Several long moments passed as Jean-Luc struggled to regain his composure. Once he felt steadier, he took a deep breath and asked, “And what about Rurke? You haven’t mentioned him. Is he dead too?”  
He was surprised by herthe reply.  
“No, Captain, he is not.”

“Why the hell not?” Jean-Luc’s raised voice caught the attention of the gathered people. He saw the warning in the FA’s eyes and moderated his tone. “Why not, sir?”  
She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Captain,” she began cautiously, “you accept that eliminating people is a last resort? That if possible, we would always strive to rehabilitate, rather than …”  
“Execute?” Jean-Luc’s tone was clearly derisive.  
“Captain!” the stern rebuke in the elderly female’s tone was clear. He reacted reluctantly, offering a small inclination of his head by way of apology and acceptance of her censure.   
“Captain,” the FA said more evenly, “if we can avoid the termination of individuals, of course we will. You seem to be alluding to this activity as an unacceptable action, yet you had no trouble accepting that we had eliminated the Tholian and Lannit Yan. What are you saying? Are you condemning us, or are you angry that we didn’t go far enough?”  
“I …” Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly as he sorted through his tumultuous emotions. Having found firmer ground he gave a contrite smile. “My apologies, sir. This …” he offered a vague gesture with his hand, “is difficult for me.”  
“And that is entirely understandable, Captain.” The FA sighed. “We found that Rurke was a pawn. Not that he was unwilling, far from it. He was all too willing and able to carry out the Tholian’s orders, his employer’s. However,” the old female sighed, “there is a distinct difference in Rurke’s attitude to his employment we’ve not found in others either employed by the Tholian or coerced by him to do his bidding. Rurke had a conscience.”  
The protest rose quickly in Jean-Luc and the FA was effective in forestalling it. “Yes, we know he could be utterly ruthless,” she said firmly. “Utterly deadly,” she conceded quietly before continuing. “yet he had personal standards. There are many instances where he openly defied the Tholian’s orders. Many instances where he was guided by his own sense of propriety.”

“His own sense of propriety?” Jean-Luc’s tone was both incredulous, scathing, and derisive. “He was one of the most effective, and one of the main facilitators of the Tholian’s agenda! How on earth can you…”  
“Because he showed he had a moral standard, Captain!” she interrupted urgently. “Yes, it’s incontrovertible that Rurke was the Tholian’s go-to operative, the one he turned to get the more difficult jobs done, and yet Rurke demonstrated, time and time again and again, the discretion with which to use his talents.”  
The elderly woman sighed with exasperation. “He had his own standard, a code, if you will. Yes, there’s no doubt he tortured and killed, but not indiscriminately. If he felt … if he knew that a target was undeserving of whatever the Tholian had decreed, then the target was given the opportunity to offer whatever it had to escape the worst of Rurke’s attentions.”  
The FA sighed and gave a wave of her hand. “The Tholian was aware of this, of course, but as long as none of those Rurke spared caused any further trouble for him, the Tholian was willing to let it slide.” The FA smiled as she said, “What is it you humans say? He turned a blind eye?”

“Unlikely.” Jean-Luc muttered angrily. “I seriously doubt anything slid past the Tholian, that he turned a blind eye. It’s far more likely that whoever Rurke spared, died later at other’s hands.”   
“Perhaps.” The FA agreed with a sigh, “but doesn’t that give an opportunity to scrutinise Rurke’s level of complicity? Look, Captain,” the old female shook her head. “we’re not suggesting that Rurke wasn’t responsible for his fair share of torture and, yes, killings. However, there are ample examples of Rurke refusing to carry out his employer’s orders with regard to killing those he'd been ordered to. Rurke existed in a very exclusive group, one we’re in the process of dismantling. He alone among those employed to carry out the Tholian’s orders showed again and again that he was unwilling to kill indiscriminately.”  
The FA sighed frowned as she shook her head. “I suppose what I’m saying is that he only killed those who truly deserved it.”  
The scowl on Jean-Luc’s face showed his disbelief. “So, you’re giving the Tholian’s hit squad a ranking? You’re saying that Rurke gets a free pass because he had some kind of quasi-moral code? That, sir, is utterly ludicrous! He was a torturer and a killer.”  
“Yes, he was.” The FA agreed with exasperation. “We aren’t denying that.” She tightened the grip she’d continued to hold of Jean-Luc’s forearm. “But there are levels of complicity, Captain, and if others see that someone like Rurke has been granted mercy by those who seek to end the kind of power and infiltration the Tholian enjoyed, then perhaps more might come forward and those in the wings … those who think they can find another employer like the Tholian, perhaps they might think twice before embarking on such a … short-lived engagement.” The FA smiled grimly. “We’re watching now, Captain. We don’t intend to allow the likes of the Tholian to ever rise to prominence again.”  
“Lofty goals.” Jean-Luc replied with a heavy note of sarcasm.

“Agreed, but our very existence depends on it.” the old female sighed as she replied with fatalism. “We chose this version of the future, Captain. If we’re to see the future we hope to achieve, then we must do what we think is necessary to bring that about. And yet we must do so ethically. It would be extremely hypocritical of us to engineer events to only serve us, don’t you think? Yes, the end result of our actions may well favour us, but we’re well aware that we share this timeline. We have your future, the Federations’ future, in mind as well as ours, Captain.”  
Jean-Luc gave the female a long look before asking quietly, “What happens in the other futures … the other timelines, the ones you didn’t choose?”  
“Do you really want me to answer that, Captain?”  
He gave the question some thought before shaking his head in an expression of irritation and frustration. “No, I don’t!” he spat heatedly. “Yet,” he sighed, finding a calmer note, “I must admit there is a part of me that wants to know.”  
“Ah,” the FA murmured gently. “the curiosity humans are so well known for.” She offered a kind smile. “This is the timeline you exist in, Captain, in the here and now. Trust us, trust that we will take you into a future you can take pride in.”  
Whatever Jean-Luc may have said in response was cut short by the announcement of the arrival of his children. He was committed. He had given his trust to the aliens. There was no going back now.

For such an important event, the work of the aliens was an almost nonevent for those receiving their assistance. They moved in groups of three or four, stopping at those present and briefly holding their hands in a linked chain. Once they moved on, those who had gained their help smiled and most often gave an encouraging nod.   
This changed, however, when the aliens gathered in a group of eight before Jean-Luc, Beverly, and their children. The elderly woman stepped forward and said in a soft voice as she gestured to Katya, Deanna, and Tom, waiting to one side, “Please, Ms. Kurnov, Counsellor Troi, Doctor Chalmers, join us.”

Once all seven were gathered, the FA indicated silently for all to join hands. Once that had been done, the eight aliens inserted themselves within the chain, occupying every second space, extending the chain, and ending it by completing a circle. One of the aliens held Elly, one of her little hands in his, the other in her mother’s.  
“None of you are required to do anything,” she the old female instructed quietly. “just let us into your minds. The process will not be painful or overtly invasive. Unlike the others here, all of you have been significantly and personally affected by what has happened to you, although within your group, obviously some more than others.” She smiled as she said this, looking at the family and Katya. “But because it is the same trauma that binds you, we feel that it’s best that we address you all in the same memory adjustment.”

Before any response was given by anyone in the group, the process began.  
Beverly was frowning as she felt the first tickle of a presence, as if something light and fast had skittered across her thoughts, touching lightly, skimming, and dipping as it seemed to be searching, delving. She concentrated on relaxing and allowing access.  
Jean-Luc too reacted as he detected the first touch in his mind. His response was vastly different. He gasped softly and grimaced as his automatic reaction asserted itself. He heard the old female’s voice say soothingly, “It’s all right, Captain, you will not be harmed in any way, I give you my word. Just relax and stop trying to resist.”  
He reacted again, shaking his head as he rejected the advice and attempted to strengthen his resistance. He struggled valiantly to stop what was happening. The female’s voice was compassionate when she said softly, “I understand, Jean-Luc.”  
He gasped again at the use of his given name. “I know about what’s been done to you in the past, I know about Madred … and the Borg, and what they did to you. What they took from you against your will.”  
Tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks in silent distress as the FA continued gently, “Your unwillingness to allow us into your mind is completely understandable. You have lived with the memories of those violations for a long time, Jean-Luc.” she seemed to sigh. 

“Because they are a part of you now, part of your psyche and therefore an integral component of who and what you are, we will not touch them. To do so would be to take away too much of you as you are now. We seek only the memories of the recent atrocities you suffered.”  
He felt the touch in his mind again, this time more forcefully. Yet there was no physical pain. Only his own self-induced mental anguish. He tried to reinforce his mental barriers and he heard the elderly female sigh again, this time with sad resolve. “Please, Jean-Luc … please, if only for the others, for your family...”  
It was those last few words that defeated him. With a quiet sob he surrendered to the growing presence. His eyes closed and he sighed deeply, wondering if he would ever be the same, if he would ever regain the happiness he had enjoyed with his beloved Beverly and their equally cherished children.   
More tears flowed, yet this time with relief and heartfelt joy as he suddenly heard Beverly’s voice in his mind. “It’s all right, Jean-Luc,” she whispered with gentle love, “I’m here. I’m with you, and so are our children.”  
He opened his mind fully and began to sob as the truth of Beverly’s words became clear. His family were indeed with him, and he rejoiced.

The room she woke in was large and dimly lit. As Katya slowly sat up, she squinted her eyes to better see her surroundings. She was in a bed, its mattress soft and comfortable, and over her had been placed a light blanket.   
There were two pillows behind her, and she smiled wryly when she understood that her preference for two pillows must have somehow been taken from her thoughts.   
“Not invasive?” she snarled quietly. “Yeah, right.” With growing anger, she sneered at her pillows. “There was nothing about fucking pillows in my memories of Twenth, Lannit Yan, and Picard, and what they did to me.”  
Her dark mutterings woke Tom who was sleeping in a bed close by. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before looking around. Once he spotted Katya he grinned. “Hey! How’re you doing?” She didn’t get the chance to answer as he continued, “I feel great!”  
“Shh!” she hissed as she admonished him, giving her anger a target. She stabbed her finger towards the still-sleeping Picards and Deanna. 

Tom offered an apologetic expression and then nodded. “Ok,” he whispered. He then asked quietly, “How long have you been awake?”  
“Only a few minutes,” she replied grudgingly. “Long enough to know we’ve been had, though.” she spat softly, yet derisively.  
“Had?” Tom’s reply was soft but clearly worried. “Had, how? What do you mean? In what way have we been had?”   
She pointed to her pillows. “I’ve always liked to sleep with two pillows under my head. Check yours out, then check the Picards’ and Troi’s.”  
Tom turned and looked at his pillow and then glanced over at the family to see all but Elly had one pillow. The baby had none.  
“Yeah, so?”  
Katya let out a derisive huff. “Whoever put two pillows under my head got my preference for that from my mind.”  
“So?” Tom’s patience was wearing thin. “We allowed the aliens access, if I remember correctly.”  
“Yes, but,” Katya replied with exaggerated emphasis, “that little titbit wasn’t in any of my memories about what happened to me … to us.” She gestured towards the other sleepers. “So, it must have been taken from other memories, stuff they assured us they wouldn’t access.”  
Tom’s frown showed his growing disquiet. He looked at his friend and said softly, “What else have they had access to?”  
“Exactly.”  
She would’ve said more except a door opened, letting in a wedge of bright light. A figure was briefly silhouetted before the door closed silently. Katya’s eyes adjusted quickly, and she left her bed, preparing to defend herself. She wasn’t exactly comforted to see the old female.

“Your suspicions are unfounded, Ms. Kurnov.” The old FA said quietly, and without preamble, clearly showing she knew what Katya had said. “We didn’t find your preference for two pillows for sleep in your mind.”  
Katya’s expression showed her sceptisism. “Then how do you know?” The defiance and anger were also clear in her tone.   
It made the FA sigh. “Because we asked you.” she replied patiently.  
“What?” Katya’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “I don’t remember that.”  
The old female smiled and even in the dim light there was an unmistakable twinkle in her eyes. “I’m not surprised.” she said but her smile faltered and morphed into a sad sigh. “Your memories, Katya, yours and those of the captain and Doctor Picard, they were exceptionally traumatic. It was difficult even for us to relive them with you, and I can assure you we have witness some things…”  
Whatever she was going to say was left unsaid. The sympathetic smile returned as she explained, “The experience was hard for you, Katya, and it took a great deal from you. At its end, you were utterly exhausted. One of our number carried you to your bed and, before you were laid down, you were asked your preference for head support while sleeping. You whispered, ‘Two pillows, I like two pillows.’”   
The old alien gestured to Tom, Deanna, and the Picard family. “We asked everyone except the children. We asked their mother for that information. She gave it willingly.”

“Oh.” A light blush rose over Katya’s face, darkening her naturally dusky skin. Her embarrassment was obvious, yet the alien female sought to ease it. “It’s all right, Katya, we understand. Not only is suspicion in circumstances like this normal and expected, it’s also perfectly acceptable. If I were in your position, I would be wary and suspicious too.”  
Katya looked over at the sleeping others and sighed. “Are they ok?” she asked, somewhat curious.  
“Yes.” The FA said wistfully. “They will awaken soon. In fact …” she gestured to Deanna, who was beginning to stir. “Counsellor Troi is about to waken.”  
“And then what?” It was Tom who’d asked, causing the alien to turn and smile at him.  
“And then you all go on with your lives.” She tilted her head in a curiously cat-like gesture. “You will remember everything. As you are aware, it was not our intention to remove the upsetting memories. Rather, when you think about them, or if they surface in any way on their own or not, you will not feel the distress of before. They will no longer damage you, no longer dictate your behaviour. They will no longer define you. We have taken away their power.”  
“So, they’ll be just … what?” Katya asked, somewhat confused. 

The FA offered a slight frown. “They’ll be whatever you want them to be. With time, because they no longer have any power over you, they will fade. However,” she gave Katya a long look. “if you choose to dwell on them, to use them to fuel anger or to deliberately resurrect the emotions attached to them, then it is possible to be afflicted by them. But that would have to be a conscious decision, Katya, and I simply cannot believe you would do that. Or have cause to.”  
“Yeah.” Katya replied distractedly. “Fuck that.”  
The FA gave a soft chuckle. “Indeed.”

Her dry response garnered a wry smile from the young woman. “Yeah,” she repeated with more confidence. “I get that, and I’m totally on board with it. I’ll happily see the back of all that shit.”  
“Excellent.” the alien grinned. She redirected her attention to Deanna, who had woken and moved to sit on her bed with her legs over the side, content to listen. The old female smiled at her and included her in her next words. “Now, are you hungry?”  
It was Tom who blurted the reply for all three of them. “Yes!”  
Katya sent him a warning glare as she said, while gesturing to the Picards. “Shh! For fuck’s sake, Tom.”  
“Sorry.” he murmured, slightly annoyed both by his friend’s reaction and his forgetfulness. She forgave him with a smile. The alien swept her arm towards the door. “Many hours have passed since you last ate. If you’ll come with me?”  
The friends left their beds and followed the old female from the room. Deanna was already forming her many questions in her mind.

James yawned widely and sat up with the familiar sluggishness of the just woken, blinking with owlish dreaminess, before rubbing his eyes and then yawning again, this time expansively. After wiping the resulting tears from his eyes, he looked to his left and saw his sister, restless in her sleep, but showing the signs of awakening.   
He then looked to his right and saw his parents, sleeping in separate beds, side by side. Throwing the light blanket off, he exited his bed and shuffled to the closest parent, which happened to be his father.  
“Papa?” he said cautiously, wondering if he should disturb his father’s sleep. That had never been an issue on the Enterprise. Both parents had assured him he could wake them at any time, and for any reason.  
Jean-Luc eyes opened automatically; his internal monitor pre-programmed to respond to both of his children as rapidly and as easily as he would to a summons from anywhere on his ship.   
However, despite this ingrained reaction he was uncharacteristically mentally befogged. “Mmm?” he said groggily as he rose to consciousness. “James?” he said croakily, once he’d identified the source of the voice.   
“Yes, papa.” the boy replied. “Where are we? When will maman wake up?”

The captain sat up quickly, doing his best to comprehend his situation, as he strove to shake off his sleepiness. After giving the room a quick look, he returned his attention to his son. “I’m not sure, James,” he said quietly, not wishing to wake his sleeping wife and daughter. He smiled as he suggested, “How about you hop in bed with me? We can wait until maman and Elly wake up.”  
“Ok, papa.” James replied happily, moving to insert himself beside his father. Jean-Luc made sure his son was covered by the blanket and then settled his son with him and wrapped one arm around him. He was still trying to figure out where he was.   
The memory of the presence in his mind was fresh, still strong, and mostly clear. He examined it carefully, attempting to dissect the experience, but as he attempted to bring it into sharper focus, it just as quickly began to fade. After only a few minutes he was left with nothing but a lingering feeling, a hint that something had occurred, yet he was not able to discern exactly what it was.   
James was watching his father with a solemn expression. Jean-Luc felt his son move and he repositioned himself to better see him. He glanced down at him, and was saddened to see the little boy had slipped his thumb into his mouth. Jean-Luc placed a gentle kiss on James’s brow and said quietly, “Tell me what you’re thinking about, James.”

After a sigh and some contemplation while he sucked his thumb, James attempted to talk around it. Jean-Luc resisted the urge to ask him to remove it, instead opting to reassure his son. “Everything’s all right, James. You needn’t worry about anything.”  
The lad gave his father a long look as a frown developed. His thumb slipped free as he murmured, “You sound like you, papa, and I like that, but I don’t want you be different any more, ever.”  
He gave a shuddering sigh as his eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t like it when you were different.” His voice was soft and trembling. “And maman too. After the bad men … you and maman were different and I didn’t like it. Elly’s doesn’t like it too.”  
Like his wife, normally, Jean-Luc would’ve corrected his son’s speech, but he was too concerned about what the boy had said to bother. It was far more important that James expressed himself. “I’m so sorry, James.” Jean-Luc said with obvious sadness. “ You’re right, maman and I were different after our experiences with the bad men. We didn’t mean to be different and we’re so sorry that happened.”   
He tightened the arm that embraced his son a little more and kissed his brow again. “We’re here,” he gestured to the room with a gentle jerk of his head, “because we needed some help from some special people. They did what they needed to,” he smiled reassuringly, “to help us, and that means that maman and I aren’t going to be different any more.”

“Really” James asked, his lips still trembling.   
Before Jean-Luc could answer, Beverly’s voice reached them. “Yes, really, James.” she said as she sat on the side of Jean-Luc’s bed. She gave her husband a smile and sent her son a playful wink. She directed her next words to her husband. “My perception of what they did is fading fast. You?”  
Noting that she’d adopted a light tone, he replied in kind. “Oh,” he smiled reassuringly, “the same. At first, I remembered, but as I tried to study it, it slipped away. Now all that’s there is a vague feeling, though not troubling in any way.”  
“Same.” Beverly’s smile was warm. She glanced over at their daughter to see her sitting up. She looked a little sleep-befuddled, making Beverly chuckle. “I’ll go and get little miss. I’ve no idea how long we’ve slept. She’s probably in need of changing.”  
Jean-Luc looked around the room and saw there were no facilities for changing nappies, nor, indeed, were there any nappies. “I’ll see if I can raise someone.”  
He got out of bed and held his arms out, offering James the opportunity to be carried. The boy accepted his father’s invitation and smiled he was picked up and settled in his father’s strong arms. They moved around the room, and Jean-Luc noted the empty beds.

The door, which had been very well concealed, suddenly opened and Jean-Luc quickly turned to preserve his and his son’s vision in the sudden influx of bright light. He heard the barely perceptible shush of the closing door and turned again to face whoever had entered.  
The FA held up a hand in a gesture of peace. “It’s all right, Captain Picard, everything is fine. The others,” she gestured to the empty beds, “are outside and enjoying a light meal. Would you and your family like to join us?”  
The captain glanced over his shoulder to see his wife holding Elly and patting her very sodden nappy. “Our daughter requires a clean nappy.”  
“Oh!” the old female exclaimed, and Jean-Luc was surprised to see that she seemed to blush. “I’m so sorry, Captain. Of course, please, if you’ll all come with me?”  
The family followed the alien out through the door and into a brightly lit corridor. Jean-Luc held James’s face gently against his neck to shield his eyes while he squinted and blinked away the brightness.   
He knew Beverly would be doing the same with Elly. They emerged in a largish room to see Deanna, Katya and Tom seated at a table, seemingly enjoying a meal from an array of dishes displayed before them. Deanna rose and would’ve joined the family, but the elderly female waved her back to her seat.

“It’s all right, Counsellor,” she said with a smile. “the little one, Elly, needs to have her nappy changed.” The female turned her focus to Elly’s parents, standing shoulder to shoulder. “It’s quite embarrassing,” she attempted a lopsided smile. “we assumed we’d thought of everything … that all your needs had been anticipated. Yet …” she gestured to Elly who was beginning to squirm and fret in Beverly’s arms. “we completely forgot about the needs of small humans.”  
Two aliens came into the room, one carrying a folding changing table. Another carried an assortment of nappies, lotions, and cleaning wipes and a bag for the soiled items.  
“I do hope this meets with your approval.” The alien said, her voice still bearing a note of embarrassment.  
“I’m sure it will.” Beverly remarked with a wry smile. The knowledge that these all-knowing aliens could miss something as basic as the needs of pre-toilet trained human children amused her and imparted a certain amount of smugness.  
Jean-Luc must have caught her tone or her expression because he too found comfort in finding the aliens weren’t as superior as they perhaps thought they were. He didn’t join the others at the dining table, content, instead, to stand beside his wife as she changed their daughter’s nappy. 

Having hoisted the now comfortable little girl into her arms, Beverly sent her husband a tender smile and nodded towards the table. “Shall we?”  
“Yes.” he said softly, feeling love swell in his chest so powerfully he had to take a moment to gain enough control to stop his eyes filling with tears.  
The family joined the others at the table and seated themselves. A bowl and spoon were given to Beverly for James and an assortment of dishes suitable for Elly were placed close by. There was also a bottle of formula, and Beverly was pleased to find it was at the right temperature. She looked up at the FA and smiled. “You learn quickly.” she quipped dryly.  
“Indeed, Doctor. We’ve had to over the centuries. A misstep like the one we just made, forgetting the complex needs of your daughter…” she sighed and shook her head. “In some circumstances, with some species, some cultures, that could be construed as an insult severe enough to cause a calamity.” 

Jean-Luc nodded his agreement. “Yes, especially if a species was looking for a reason to take umbrage. One who actively sought a way to be offended.”  
“I suppose,” the old female said with a deep sigh, “there lies the difference between those who are genuinely seeking peace and those who strive to deceive. Those who hold a vastly different agenda to the one they purport.”  
“And all too common in politics.” Jean-Luc’s comment was edged with a touch of sarcasm. It made the elderly female smile. “Ever the upholder of your own version of the truth, Captain? You still suspect we have a hidden agenda? An ulterior motive?”  
His expression hardened as he replied, “My version of the truth is the only one I know, sir.”  
“Yes,” the reply came, tinged with regret. “and you only have my word that what we’ve done has been in your best interests. Done to uphold your version of the truth.”  
She lowered her head in thought, a frown creasing her brow. As the words came to her, she lifted her head and summoned a smile. “I cannot prove the veracity of my version of truth, Captain. I can only show you the alternatives. However,” she lifted a finger in caution, “if you choose to see them, I must warn you of the damaging affects they will have.”

Before Jean-Luc could offer any response, she added, “But we can help with that, just as we helped with your other, more recent, damaging memories.” She gestured towards him and tilted her head in enquiry. “It’s your choice, Captain.”  
Beverly rose from her seat, having given Elly to Deanna. She squatted down beside her husband and said quietly, “Jean-Luc, is this really necessary?”  
He looked into her eyes and gave a helpless shrug. “If I don’t do this, how can I know for certain?”  
“Do you really need to know?” Beverly stressed as she smiled sadly and placed her hand along the side of his face. “Sometimes,” she murmured, “you just have to trust.”  
He spent some long moments looking into Beverly’s eyes before he sighed and offered a nod. “You’re right.” he admitted softly. “There comes a time when a situation requires trust. This, you’ve reminded me, is one of them.” He turned his attention back to the FA. “No, sir, I don’t need to see the alternative futures.”

“I’m glad, Captain.” she said with relief. “Ultimately it would serve no purpose, other than to retraumatise you.”  
The man nodded silently. He then gestured to the table and said to Beverly, “Perhaps we might simply enjoy our meal?”  
“Yes.” Her reply easily carried her relief and support. “Yes, indeed.”

Two weeks had passed, and the Picard family were once again in their quarters on the Enterprise. It was evening by the ship’s chronometer and the children were in bed. Beverly and Jean-Luc, having enjoyed their late dinner, eaten after their children’s earlier meal, were sampling a bottle of Chateau Picard red wine.  
Jean-Luc took a sip and held it in his mouth as he held the glass up and swirled the liquid within. Beverly watched with interest while she awaited his verdict. She liked the wine but understood that for him, it was more about its quality than simple taste.  
He pursed his lips and then swallowed before bowing his head and sighing. “It’s grand.” he said softly, and though he spoke quietly, his pride was clearly evident. “Marie’s choice of chief vintner was a wise one.”

“Do you think you’ll go back, one day?” Beverly asked, finding the anticipation of his answer made her feel somewhat tense. Not in a bad way, yet her suspense was obvious. The question also surprised the captain. His eyebrows rose as he gave the query some thought.  
“Actually,” he began tentatively, “had you asked me that a few months ago I would’ve been sure of my reply.”  
“And what would that have been?”  
“That I had little interest in returning to the chateau. That once we were ready, we’d retire to a home of our own making.” He shrugged and added, “Wherever that happened to be.”  
Beverly’s smile was guarded. “And now?”  
“And now.” Jean-Luc repeated with a sigh. “And now I find I’m drawn to my roots.” He offered an apologetic smile. “But you have roots too, Beverly. Is there somewhere that draws you? Caldos, perhaps?”  
“Maybe,” her hesitance was clear. “though I don’t know about the kids, how’d they go, re education and so forth.” She held up a hand as she continued, “but that depends on their age. Who knows when we’ll retire? They might be well into their education by then.” 

She frowned as she continued to mull over the thought. “And there’s the other stuff, the peripheral life stuff. What about career opportunities, partners? No,” she sighed as she waved her hands. “no, not Caldos.” She preempted any response from her husband by adding, “and certainly not Arveda 11.”  
“I see.” Jean-Luc smiled sympathetically. “And what about Jack?” he asked quietly, “Did he have family roots you’d like to explore?”  
“Not really.” Beverly shrugged. “As far as I know his family were kinda rootless. I guess I could research the Crusher family roots?”  
“That’s up to you,” Jean-Luc replied with quiet support. “and if you find somewhere in his family history that you think might be an appropriate place for us to live, then by all means, explore it. I’m open to anything.”  
Beverly’s smile was accepting, yet there was an amused sparkle in her eyes. “But France looks good.”  
“It does,” he nodded, trying to look apologetic and falling short. “it ticks most boxes, nest pas?”  
Beverly laughed delightedly and shook her head. “Way to go making your point.”

He shrugged and basked in her good humour. The mood became suddenly subdued as Beverly gave her husband a long look and said, “I’m off to bed.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes slid to the sofa, his makeshift bed, aside from one instance since their return to the Enterprise. “Very well.” He summoned a brave smile. “I’ll get my pillow and blanket.”  
“No need.” Beverly replied, offering a confident smile. “Join me in our bed, Jean-Luc.”  
He was stunned, but managed to ask, “Are you sure, Beverly?”   
“Yes.” Her reply was confident. “These last days, since we returned to the ship … I’ve been thinking about it and I simply can’t find a reason why you shouldn’t be with me in our bed. Yes,” she conceded, “I know what happened, there’s no doubt about that, but that…” she rolled her hand to accentuated her words, “that gut reaction, the dread and fear, it’s just not there any more.”  
“You’re sure?” he asked again, wanting her experience to mirror his. “I have to admit, my reactions to what happened are also … muted.” he confessed hopefully.  
“Muted.” Beverly said as she nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s what we were told, and I have to admit that’s what I feel, that my memories about what happened,” she gestured with her hand to include both of them, “everything that happened to us … it doesn’t affect me as it once did.” She sighed as she frowned tentatively.

“As if it’s been robbed of its power?” Jean-Luc asked rhetorically.  
“Yes.” Beverly replied anyway. “Despite being told that’d be the case, experiencing it is somewhat … confronting, in its own way.”  
“Yes”, Jean-Luc conceded, his furrowed brow showing his confusion. “I too was assured that my memories of what happened would be … ameliorated?” he offered, showing his doubt. “and that’s exactly what happened. When I think about it, it’s as if I’m seeing a slide show, removed from me like I’m seeing a report of some kind, of something that’s happened to someone else.”  
“Me too.” Beverly shook her head. “The thing is … despite being told this was the expected outcome of what they did, the aliens didn’t really prepare us for the reality.”  
“No.” Jean-Luc sighed. “No, they certainly didn’t,”   
“So, what do we do?"

Jean-Luc shrugged helplessly and held his hands out in a gesture of hope. “We resume our lives?” he suggested. “We carry on as if what happened …” he grimaced, “…didn’t?”  
“Yeah.” Beverly nodded thoughtfully. “That kinda makes sense.”  
“So, this …” Jean-Luc gestured to the sofa, “is no longer necessary?”  
Beverly smiled tentatively. “Well, yeah.”  
“Good.” Jean-Luc smiled with hope. “That’s good.”  
The couple moved in unison, both attempting to reassure the other. Beverly giggled as her embarrassed husband baulked and held up his hands in surrender. “This need not be awkward,” he suggested quietly. “how would you like to proceed?”  
Beverly smiled at her husband, her expression easily carrying her tenderness. “What I would like,” she replied gently, “is to go to bed.” She lifted her hand to caress his cheek. “With my husband.”  
“Yes.” he whispered, barely stifling his tears. “Me too. I would like that as well.”  
Beverly took his hand and led him to their bedroom.

Neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly slept particularly well, and they didn’t touch each other at all, but as they woke the next morning they both new they had broken a persistent and stubborn barrier, a physical and psychological impediment that had been preventing them from going forward.  
While Beverly replicated breakfast, Jean-Luc helped James to dress and then ushered him to the table. As the doctor put the food out, Jean-Luc went to Elly, changed her nappy, and then brought her into the living area and settled her into her highchair.  
James was chatty, keeping his parent’s minds occupied and, at times, amusing them. After the meal, Jean-Luc cleared the table while his wife cleaned Elly’s hands and face and made sure no stray bits of her breakfast had snuck past her bib.  
Once all the children’s paraphernalia for the creche visit had been gathered, the family left. As they made their way to the nearest turbolift, Beverly remarked, “I have a session with Deanna in about an hour.”  
Although her tone had been light, Jean-Luc knew she, much like himself, dreaded these therapy sessions. That they were necessary was well understood, yet the thought of what was required of them, in order for the counsellor to help in their recovery, made the couple reluctant.

Beverly, however, had discovered that morning that she was, surprisingly, looking forward to seeing her best friend. Sleeping with Jean-Luc had been a watershed and she was keen to not only tell Deanna about it, but to discuss how best to take advantage of it.   
Jean-Luc sighed, and yet there were no negative emotions connected to the gesture. “I’m going to see her this afternoon.” A smile emerged as the family entered the lift. “and I must admit, I don’t feel the usual dread at the thought.”  
His comment made Beverly beam. “I’m feeling the same way.”  
“Last night …” Jean-Luc glanced at James and, on seeing the boy was occupied with a picture book, continued quietly, “last night was important, Beverly. We’ve crossed our own Rubicon, I think.”  
“Indeed.” Beverly replied softly as she nodded. The lift arrived on the desired deck and the family exited. Little else was said until the couple had left their children at the creche. Once outside in the corridor, Beverly looked around and, seeing no other crewmembers, took her husband’s hand. “Deanna’s going to want to do joint counselling soon, Jean-Luc.”  
“Yes, I know.”  
“And you’re ok with that?”  
He smiled and nodded. “Yes.” He then frowned as he added, “though had you asked me that yesterday, I’d’ve probably said no.”  
“I understand, I would’ve resisted too.”

They shared a tender smile before Jean-Luc straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. Beverly had seen him do this so often she no longer thought about it. Her husband had just donned the mantle of command. He was now Captain Picard.  
“How’s it been going?” Beverly asked, knowing he was aware of what she was referring to.   
“Oh, fine.” he replied automatically, and then frowned and shook his head. “No.” he snorted, “no, that’s not right. I’ve experienced some difficulties in reintegrating myself into my command.” He raised his forefinger as he added, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I just need a little time.”

Beverly was inordinately pleased he’d admitted that to her. It was yet another sign of his willingness to be more open with her. “I know what you mean, Jean-Luc.” she said, wanting to show her appreciation of his honesty by reciprocating in kind. “My resumption as CMO hasn’t been as seamless as I’d hoped.” she smiled lopsidedly. “But, like you, I’m getting there.”  
“Time.” Jean-Luc murmured quietly. “We just need a little more time.”  
They were about to part when Beverly suddenly remembered something. “Oh, Jean-Luc, I forgot to tell you that I’m going to see Selar this afternoon for a checkup.” She would have said more, but Jean-Luc interrupted her.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly. “Are you unwell, Beverly?”  
“Not unwell, no.” She had to choose her words carefully. “You know that problem I had on Haven? The one I …” she took a deep and steadying breath before she continued, “… the one I lied to you about so I could see the resort doctor?”  
“Yes.” he replied quietly and cautiously.

“Well, I’ve had a few twinges.” On seeing the alarm on his face, Beverly was quick to put his fears to rest. “It’s ok!” she said firmly. “I’m fine, the scans have already been done and I’m fine.”  
“You didn’t tell me.” he said reproachfully. There was also a small trace of anger present in his voice.  
“Because there was nothing to tell.” she said with a smile. “Besides, I’m telling you about the checkup. Want to come with me? Be there when Selar checks the latest scans?”  
“There’s been more than one set? You’ve had multiple scans? Over how long?” The small trace of ager was growing.  
Beverly was beginning to grow irritated. She took another deep breath and strove for calm. “In circumstances such as I encountered when I first became aware of my condition, and what followed with regard to the treatments, it is common practice to run a series of scans over two or three days. This is done merely for comparison, especially if the initial scan shows there is nothing untoward.”  
“You said you’d been having twinges.” he stated flatly, yet with a hint of accusation.  
“Yes, I have, and that’s why I sought Selar’s assistance immediately.” Beverly was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her demeanour patient and light. “What I’ve been experiencing is related to the condition I had, there has been some residual effects throughout my body, specifically, in all the areas where the tumours developed. However,” she emphasised her next words by holding up her forefinger, “I am perfectly well. There are no tumours anywhere in my body and these very mild symptoms I’ve had will ease over time and then disappear completely.” 

He held her gaze for a few long seconds before sighing in acceptance. “Very well,” he conceded. “I’ll trust in your judgement and, yes, I would like to be with you.”  
“Good.” Beverly said with a note of finality. She then changed direction completely. “Is Will still a bit off? You mentioned a few days ago that you thought you sensed there was something bothering him?”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc said thoughtfully, accepting his wife’s change of their conversation’s direction. “Since he brought the Enterprise back.” Jean-Luc frowned as he gathered his thoughts. “The thing is, Beverly, I don’t know if it’s me he’s off kilter with, or if it’s the result of the mission we took part in.” The captain shrugged and shook his head. “And I’m slightly wrong-footed, as I’ve got my own difficulties to deal with. I can’t give him the attention he needs, at least not yet. I have to devote all my energies in reestablishing my command.”

Approaching footsteps caused the couple to move apart and fall silent. Two junior crew members rounded the corner and nodded respectfully, one saying quietly, “Captain.” The other appeared too intimidated to speak.  
Jean-Luc nodded his acknowledgement and then sent Beverly a meaningful look. She understood immediately and fell in beside him as he set off for the nearest observation lounge. Their discussion would continue in a far more private setting.

Tom’s frown made him appear to be disturbed by what Katya was doing, however, the reality was he was highly amused. He just didn’t want Katya to know it. That could elicit an … unfortunate … reaction.  
She was muttering darkly as she tried yet again to close her largish, semi-rigid hold all without any of its contents hanging out. Once again, she failed to achieve this seemingly simple goal, and her anger and frustration increased exponentially. The volume of her mutterings increased, and the nature of her words went from mildly threatening to outright obscene and decidedly deadly.  
Tom softly cleared his throat and moved a little closer, something he wasn’t sure was a good idea, or safe, but he knew that if he didn’t at least offer to help, the situation would only get worse.  
“Ah, Katya?” he began cautiously, “Perhaps I might help?”

He was immediately worried when the angry woman froze. After some tense moments, her head turned with slow deliberation and she glared at him, her nostrils flaring as she tried to control her breathing. “It’s ok.” she managed, barely getting the words out through her clenched teeth. “I can do it.”   
“I’ve no doubt,” Tom agreed quietly. “but hold alls can be hard to get closed if the contents haven’t been…”  
“Don’t say it, Tom. Just don’t.” The warning was clear.  
He pursed his lips and briefly considered his options. If he persisted, there was no way to know which way she’d explode, only that she would explode, and he’d probably cop the brunt, verbal or otherwise.  
However, if he did nothing, the situation would deteriorate rapidly, and things would most certainly get broken. He sighed as he realised the pointlessness of that. Also, in the aftermath, Katya would regret her outburst and depression would threaten. “No.” he sighed inwardly. “better to just bite the bullet.”

He stepped up to her and placed his hands over hers. He could feel her trembling and it saddened him. “Here,” he said softly, “let me.”  
He eased her hands off the hold all and then picked it up off the bed. He turned and moved to the other side of the room, where he put the hold all down, opened it up and removed the contents. He then repacked it, being careful to fold the clothing and arrange them, and the other items, so that they fitted neatly. The soft click as the hold all closed successfully was loud in the otherwise silent room.   
Throughout this little drama, Katya had remained where she was, back turned and her eyes closed as she concentrated on calming herself. She flinched when she felt Tom’s gentle touch on her arm.  
“How’re you doing?”

She took a deep breath and then nodded. “Getting there.”  
“Your control is admirable. I felt sure you’d blow a gasket.”  
“Don’t relax just yet,” she replied quietly. “I haven’t decided whether to blow a fuse, or a gasket, or not.”  
Tom chuckled softly and gave her arm a squeeze. “Well, I think you’re freakin’ awesome, Katya.”  
She turned to look at him and was grateful to see the genuine affection in his steady gaze. He reddened under her scrutiny and cleared his throat again. “We’ve got everything.” he said as he gestured to the soon to be unoccupied room. “Are you ready to leave?”

“More than ready.” she replied with a lopsided smile.   
As Tom picked up the hold all and hoisted its strap over his shoulder, Katya moved towards the door, but then hesitated and turned back to look again at the room she had spent so much recent time in. “It’s funny…”  
Tom didn’t prompt her when her words trickled to a halt. She seemed to dismiss whatever she’d been about to say and turned abruptly, leaving the room without a backwards glance. It wasn’t until they were out of the building that she continued with her train of thought. 

“That was kinda hard …” she gestured back towards the facility. “… leaving.” she clarified. “I’d come to think of that room as a refuge, despite what’d happened in there.”   
She sighed and shook her head. “And the reason I was there in the first place. Regardless, it was my space, where I could … hide.”  
“That’s understandable.” Tom said with genuine sympathy. “And the legal relief? The charges being dropped? That must’ve helped.”  
Katya’s smile was weak, yet not without feeling. “Oh, you bet.” she replied. “Knowing I’m not facing any legal trouble over what happened, oh, yeah, that’s a huge relief.”   
She took another long look at the facility and sighed. “It’s ironic, in its own way. I’ve been exonerated and set free and now Sally McCormack is in there. Shit, Tom, life can be so fucking convoluted.”  
He nodded as he replied, “Indeed.” He then brightened and said, with a twinkle in his eyes, “So, break out meal?”

“Ha!” Katya blurted and then sent him her own look of mischief. “The bistro, the one Sally ambushed us at.”  
“Oh, score!” Tom laughed as he pointed at his friend. “Who said payback was underrated?”  
“Not me.”  
They chuckled as they made their way to a transport station. Tom used a locker to store Katya’s hold all and then they joined a short queue of people, waiting to be transported to their desired destinations.  
The bistro wasn’t full yet, so the couple were able to choose where they were seated. After ordering their pre-meal drinks, and receiving them, Tom raised his glass. “Here’s to you, Katya. You’ve been granted the freedom to pursue your life as you wish. May you enjoy the coming journey.”

They touched glasses and sipped. Tom could tell that his friend was deep in thought. He waited while she sorted through her emotions and was rewarded for his patience when she took a large breath before expelling it forcibly.  
“I have an appointment with a gynecologist in two days’ time.” she announced and, on seeing Tom’s worried expression, she hastened to enlighten him. “A hysterectomy is still on the cards, Tom, but there is room to move.”   
She gave a small smile as she continued. “I may yet opt for a long-term contraception method … an implant, perhaps.” She reached forward and took his hands. “There are a lot of things I haven’t decided on, Tom, and that includes my sexual identity.”  
She sighed and a frown creased her brow. “Until recent events, I’d not given it much thought. I was so dedicated to my career, trying to decide if I should concentrate on WD or ECD. Personal stuff got pushed aside. Relationships simply never eventuated, so I’d not had the opportunity to discover who I was in that regard. What I want … what I need.”  
“And now?” Tom’s hope was difficult to hear.

Katya shrugged, though there was a warm smile accompanying it. “I still don’t know, but I want you to know that I’m open to a relationship with you. All I ask,” she gazed steadily into his eyes, “is that you understand I may not be able to give you all of me.”  
Her expression was troubled as she continued, “I might be straight, I might be gay, and I might be Bi … or,” she grinned, “I may be all three, or something else entirely.”  
She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Until I get the chance to explore all of the options, I can’t commit to you.” Tears welled in her eyes as she continued, “But, know this, Tom. There is love in me for you. You’re a wonderful friend, a true and trusted ally who’s stood by me through some really bad shit. I’m willing to try a relationship with you, see where it leads and, if that involves a physical element, that’s ok, I don’t think I’d mind trying.”   
She sighed again before adding, “But if that doesn’t work out, then please know, as cliched as it sounds, I will always be your friend. I think I will always love you, in one way or another.”  
Tom gently extricated his hands and sat back; his expression closed. Katya waited, much as Tom had done, while he sifted through his thoughts and collected himself. Eventually a smile emerged, and he gave a nod. “Ok.” he said. “I’ll take what you offer. If the alternative is to never know, or worse, to lose you, then I’m willing to do as you ask, to explore what a relationship with you may bring.” He leaned forward and took her hands. “And no matter what, know two things, Katya. I will always love you and I’ll always be there for you.”

Katya’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded, momentarily robbed of speech. Tom, too, was briefly overcome with emotion. It was several minutes before Katya nodded to the waiter and initiated the orders for their meals.  
Over dessert, Katya caught Tom’s attention with a steady gaze. He immediately gave her his full attention. “Apart from the gynecologist visit, there’s only one other thing I have to do, and that’s a thing that’s important to me, with regard to my recovery.”  
Several long moments passed before Tom said one word. “Picard.”  
“Yes.” Katya nodded. “My feelings towards him, about what happened have changed. What the aliens did has helped a great deal and it’s allowed me to view what happened in a different light.”   
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’d already admitted to myself that he wasn’t responsible for his actions, yet there remained a destructive bitterness that was eating at me. After the aliens intervened, I was able to finally see the events without the impediment of anger and, yes, feelings of needing … wanting … some form of revenge.”   
She slowly shook her head, a frown marring her brow. “And yet, even though I seem to be past all that, I still need to see him, to talk to him.” She sighed helplessly. “It’s so fucked up, Tom. I don’t know what I want, what I need from him. All I do know is that I need, I want to see him, to talk to him.”

“Then that is what you must do.” Tom said decisively. “Have you a way to contact him? I know the Enterprise has returned to Earth. The ship’s in orbit.”  
Katya shrugged, her helplessness obvious. “Not really. Somehow I doubt he’d welcome any contact with me.”  
“Maybe,” Tom replied thoughtfully, “but he seems like a reasonable man.” Tom seemed to come to a decision. “Are you willing to let me try?”  
“To open a contact with Jean-Luc Picard?” Katya’s doubt was obvious.   
Tom smiled as he shook his head. “No, not the captain. His ship’s counsellor, Deanna Troi.”  
“Oh, yes!” Katya grinned, snapping her fingers. “Yes, she and Picard’s wife, Beverly Picard, they helped me.”  
“They did indeed,” Tom grinned. “and I think Counsellor Troi would hear me if I contacted her.”  
Katya’s expression intensified. “Then do it, Tom. Please.”  
“Gladly.”

Will Riker shifted yet again, somehow finding the command chair uncomfortable. This had rarely ever occurred without a reason and that it was happening now didn’t go unnoticed by him. Something was niggling at him and he was having difficulty in identifying precisely what it was. However, whatever it was, it was enough to interfere with his emotional balance.  
Since reuniting with her partner, Deanna had become aware of his emotional turmoil. She had tried to talk to him about it, to see if she could gently tease out the source of his disquiet. The trouble was that so much had happened over the recent past that it was understandable that he’d be unsettled. Yet that didn’t mean she could ignore his emotionally disturbed state. 

The turbolift doors sighed open, giving her entry to the bridge. Proximity was important when Deanna’s empathic senses were focused. In this case, the closer she got the bridge, and thus Will, the more intensely she felt her lover’s disquiet.  
She took her seat to his left and marshalled her thoughts. He wouldn’t appreciate her saying anything while on the bridge and she also knew he would resist any attempts by her to counsel him, though that would only be an initial reaction. He had complete faith in Deanna, in her ability as a counsellor, her professional integrity, and beneath it all, her love for him and his for her.  
He would submit to a therapy session, but not without some token resistance. Deanna leaned slightly to her right, catching Will’s attention. She gave him a solemn look before saying quietly, “May I see you in the ready room, please?”  
By his sudden, sour expression, Deanna knew he was annoyed by her request. Yet, being irritated by the request was not something he was going to let the other bridge crew see.   
Without any verbal acknowledgement he rose and walked the short distance to Jean-Luc’s office with determined steps, his face set in a grim expression. Deanna rose and followed him, preparing for the initial salvoes of his anger.  
“Whatever it is, make it quick, Counsellor.” he snapped as soon as the doors closed behind Deanna. “I’ve better things to do than chew the fat with you.”  
Deanna’s eyebrows rose at that. “Chew the fat?” she repeated, equally amused and disgusted. “What a positively ghastly turn of phrase.”  
Said in such a deadpan way, Will couldn’t help but be amused. A smile, which he tried desperately to stifle, defied his efforts, and slowly spread. In the end he gave up, throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head. “Deanna…” he said with gentle exasperation.

“Now that I have your attention,” she said with quiet tenderness, “tell me what’s troubling you.”  
Will’s amusement fled and his exhaustion, both mental and physical, appeared. His shoulders dropped and his head bowed. “There’s so much, Deanna. I don’t know where to start.”  
Taking one of his hands in hers, Deanna led him to the sofa and encouraged him to sit with her. “Start anywhere, Will.” she said quietly, but firmly. “You know that once the walls are breached everything else will flow out.”  
“Yeah,” Will sighed and then rubbed his face with his hands. He then dropped his hands to his lap and heaved a deep sigh. “I’m just so damned tired.”   
“You’ve not been sleeping well.” Her observation was borne of personal experience.

“That’s true.” Will conceded, unnecessarily. He tapped his temple and muttered, “Too much going on in here.”  
Deanna considered what he’d said and offered, “Command has given the Enterprise a break before our next assignment. So, I can assume you’re not worrying over anything operational?”  
Will’s bitter laugh gave her an important clue as to the source of his troubles. “Command.” he sneered. “I wonder what that is, now? Who’s really giving the orders?”  
She was careful to keep her tone even as she asked, “I take it you’re referring to the aliens?”

“You bet I am!” Will’s anger bubbled up. “They’ve been pulling the strings all along and we’ve been merrily compliant, ignorant of the fact we’ve been so thoroughly and completely manipulated.”  
His voice was rising as he barked, “We might as well have bent over, grabbed our ankles and said, ‘Go right ahead. Fuck us right up our collective asses!’”  
The outburst seemed to help him, as Deanna had hoped and suspected it would. She waited as he took a deep breath and slumped on the sofa deflated and defeated. “I don’t know, Deanna. It’s just so much to take on board.”  
“That’s true.” Deanna’s reply was sympathetic. She gave the matter more thought before saying, “Will, have you spoken to the captain about this?”  
He was shocked by the question. “No!” his expression of incredulity spoke volumes. “Why the hell would I? After everything he’s been through … Beverly and the kids … Katya Kurnov. Jesus, Deanna, why would you even suggest I do such a thing?”  
As usual, Deanna hit the nail squarely on the head. “What are you afraid of, Will?”

“Afraid?” he scoffed unconvincingly. “I’m not afraid of talking to the captain about anything.” His bluster was sad to witness. Deanna knew it for what it was.  
“Aren’t you?” she asked unerringly. “Aren’t you just a little afraid that what he might say are things you don’t want to hear?”  
He glowered at her and then bowed his head, once again defeated. “Damn you, Deanna.”  
She took his hand and squeezed it. “Talk to him, Will. He’s aware that you’re troubled. You’ll be helping him by opening up. You’ll be helping both of you.”  
It took a few moments, but eventually Will nodded his compliance. “Ok,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”  
Deanna rose and then bent slightly to place a tender kiss on her lover’s forehead. “It’ll be all right, Will.”  
He gazed up at her and smiled. “Thanks Deanna. I love you.”  
“And I love you,” she replied. “Never forget that.”

The doctor and the captain were in a deserted observation lounge where they could talk in private. Beverly frowned as she listened to her husband. He was trying to put into words something that he found difficult to define. This was unusual for him; he was habitually eloquent, and rarely lost for words.  
“If Riker is experiencing a crisis of faith, either in me or Starfleet, I don’t know how, or even if, I can help him. I don’t even know how to initiate the discussion.”  
“Maybe just asking him to express himself, encouraging him to lay it on the line, so to speak, perhaps that might be enough?” Beverly offered, hopefully.  
“Perhaps,” Jean-Luc said doubtfully, his frown deepening. “but what if it turns out to be something I can’t help him with? If it’s something that’s simply beyond my ability to … fix?”  
Beverly tilted her head as she asked, “Am I hearing fear, Jean-Luc? Are you afraid of what he might say, or are you afraid that you might not be able to help him … for whatever reason?”  
His initial reaction was to reject what his wife had said, and the words rose in him even as his expression became predictably stony, a sure sign of anger. But just as quickly as that reaction had risen, so it waned. “I don’t know.” he admitted with quiet defeat. “I really don’t know.”

“Well,” Beverly said tenderly, “you won’t find out without speaking to him. Once everything’s out in the open, maybe both of you can reassess the situation.”  
“Yes, you’re right.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips. It was a purely automatic gesture, and it took both of them by surprise. Jean-Luc abruptly stood back, shock registering on his face. “Beverly!” he managed, panicked, and deeply perturbed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to … I’m sorry… please … forgive me, I…”  
Recovering quickly, Beverly decided to go with the first thing she felt, rather than try and analyse it. “No, it’s all right, Jean-Luc …” there was wonder in her voice as she continued, “it’s ok…”  
To make sure he understood what she was saying, Beverly stepped up close to him, placed her hands either side of his head, and kissed him. At first, he was rigid and tense, his desperate need for her warring with his equally desperate need to rein in his emotions so he didn’t frighten her. 

He needn’t have worried. Beverly concentrated on relaxing and enjoying the kiss. Moments later, Jean-Luc did the same. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, rather an expression of love, a reestablishment of their emotional connection. When they parted both had tears streaming down their cheeks.  
“Oh, Beverly,” Jean-Luc said brokenly, “How I love you.”  
Through her tears, Beverly replied, “And I you, dear, Jean-Luc.”   
They parted soon after, though reluctantly. Jean-Luc left for the bridge, Beverly to her appointment with Deanna. Both had much to discuss.

Deanna was not surprised when Beverly arrived early for her appointment. Usually, the doctor was reluctant to be counselled and showed this by either being habitually late, or by finding barely legitimate excuses for non-attendance, something easy to fabricate, given her position as CMO, even though it was just as easy to prove the illegitimacy of the excuses.  
Deanna could only be encouraged by Beverly’s seeming eagerness to attend the session, something she had perceived before she arrived, such was the strength of her buoyant mood. And that was reinforced when the doctor breezed into the room, simply bubbling with happiness.

“Well,” Deanna grinned. “I don’t need to be an empath to see you’re happy.”  
“Ha!” Beverly blurted, barely able to contain herself. “Happy doesn’t do justice to how I’m feeling right now.”  
“Obviously.” Deanna grinned, taking the opportunity to briefly bask in her best friend’s good mood. “So why?” Deanna asked, sobering somewhat. “What’s happened to lift your mood so much?”  
“A kiss.” Beverly said, shrugging to show how inexplicable she found her reply. “A simple kiss.”

“I assume this occurred between you and the captain?” Deanna asked rhetorically.   
Beverly rolled her eyes and then shook her head. “Of course!” she then asked sarcastically. “Who else?”  
Deanna needed to quantify this information. “And what precipitated this kiss?”  
“Oh, I … we … we’d been discussing something, something Jean-Luc was struggling with, and we’d had arrived at a decision. And then …” Beverly smiled wistfully, “he just kissed me. We were both shocked … it was so unexpected ..” a happy sigh followed as she continued, “and he was panicked, you know, he’d acted on instinct, it was an automatic response, and he was mortified, backing off and apologising, doing what he could to make up for what he’d done,”  
A look of sadness crossed her face as she added “asking for forgiveness,” her smiled reappeared as she regrouped, “but I wasn’t offended, I wasn’t … frightened … and I responded through what I felt in that moment, what my initial emotion was.”  
“By doing what?”  
“By closing the distance he’d put between us and kissing him. Kissing him with all the love I felt.”  
“And?”

Beverly laughed and did an impromptu pirouette. “He was all bound up, you know? All rigid and tense, but I ignored that and continued to kiss him. Not erotically, not passionately, just ardently, imparting my love.”   
She sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “And he eventually relaxed into it. It became a beautiful expression of our shared love, our shared commitment to each other … it was so … so lovely, so beautiful.”  
“And now? Now that this reconnection has taken place?”  
“I want to explore it.” Beverly said firmly. “I’m eager to see where it can lead.”  
“With no fear?”

“No.” Beverly replied thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think of fear when I consider the future, I only feel optimism.” Beverly sighed in thought. “Deanna,” Beverly’s demeanour was focused. “I’m looking forward to reestablishing our relationship, emotionally and … physically. I want him, Deanna, I want what we had.”  
The smile that spread over Deanna’s face easily carried her joy. “That’s wonderful to hear, Beverly.” She gave her friend an encouraging smile. “That attitude is what’s going to get you, and the captain, through this.”  
“And what the aliens did.” Beverly conceded and then sighed and gave a gesture with her hand. “I doubt I’d’ve so readily accepted what Jean-Luc did had they not helped us.”  
Deanna’s attention became focused. “Don’t discount the strength of your love for him, Beverly. It’s my belief that, with time, perhaps a long time, you would have let him back into your heart, without any outside help,” she sighed as she continued, “and your body.” 

Deanna gestured to the seats and, while Beverly made herself comfortable, Deanna went to the replicator, quickly returning with two steaming mugs.  
“There’s no doubt what the aliens did was crucially important,” she said as she settled in her seat. “to be able to remove the damaging effects of the memories, well,” the counsellor shrugged, “I don’t have to tell you just how helpful that was, you’re experiencing it, yet, I’m still convinced that you and the captain would’ve eventually found a way back to each other.”  
Beverly gave her friend a long, measured look before sighing. “Perhaps.” she replied, though without much conviction. “You may be right, Deanna, but what worried me most was that he wouldn’t survive long enough to achieve it.”  
A wave of deep sadness from Beverly washed over Deanna with such strength she had to briefly dampen her empathic senses. She waited patiently while her friend regathered her composure.   
“You kept that well-hidden.” Deanna remarked quietly.

Beverly’s tone was uncharacteristically bitter as she replied, “Are you telling me you didn’t sense it? In either of us? Good god, Deanna, he sent up enough red flags.”  
“I knew of the dangers his mental fragility presented.” Her response had been cold, and she strove to temper it. “I always felt I’d know if and when he was contemplating anything as drastic as suicide.”  
“And you’d do what?” Beverly snapped. “Run to his side?” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “You know damned well he’d have gone far enough away to be undetectable to you. Face it, Deanna, if he’d decided to kill himself, you be the last to know.”  
“Both of us, I think, Beverly. Me and you.”

Beverly sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Touché.” the doctor said in quiet defeat.  
“You’ve harboured these fears for far too long, Beverly.” Deanna said quietly. “In fact,” she continued, “it’s quite disturbing that you managed to keep it so well hidden from me. That kind of emotional effort is very costly, and in many and varied ways. If the aliens had not intervened, the very act of expending that much emotional energy would’ve eventually made you as dangerously fragile as the captain.”  
By now slumping in her chair and finally showing her exhaustion, Beverly gave a one shoulder shrug. “What can I say?” she murmured. “Everything just … snowballed. Every time we had a win, took a step forward, something happened to push us ten steps backwards. I guess the last straw, for me anyway, was that damned mission. Using Jean-Luc as fucking bait! It was callous, so damned … mercenary. And I knew, I knew with absolute certainty, that if he survived, it’d be the last gram of weight he could bear.” Her lower lip trembled as she added, “And if he did what I suspected he’d do, I would’ve probably chosen the same path.”  
“So, all that time, while he was away, you fretted. But not because you were worried he wouldn’t survive, but that even if he did, he was doomed anyway.”  
“Yes.”

This time the sadness she felt was her own. Deanna sighed and gave her friend a look of profound sympathy. “Beverly…” the counsellor shook her head as she debated the likely consequences of her next words. “What about your children?”  
Beverly’s head shot up and her eyes blazed in anger. “Don’t.” she snapped. “Don’t you dare use emotional blackmail on me, Deanna.”  
“It’s not emotional blackmail to point out the ultimate victims, Beverly. If you and the captain had succumbed to your shared despair, if you’d both committed suicide, what then? How would James and Elly have coped? What would those acts do to them, Beverly, what impact would it have had on their lives, their futures?”

“I can’t answer that, Deanna. I’ve no crystal ball.” Beverly’s tone was flippant. “Maybe we should ask the aliens, perhaps they can have a peek into the future and let us know.”  
When Deanna didn’t react to Beverly sarcasm, the doctor threw her hands up. “I don’t know!” she shouted. “Trauma and its effects … the anguish … the depression … it causes thoughts that would normally never occur.”  
“Agreed, and that’s when the sufferer should seek help.” Deanna shook her head, a deep frown marring her brow. “Why, Beverly? Why did you hide it from me? Why didn’t you come to see me?”  
“I don’t know.” Beverly whispered, barely audible. “I understand what you’re saying, Deanna, and looking at it now I can’t believe I became so mired in the negative emotions, but at the time … it all made perfect sense.” She swiped at an errant tear and offered a watery, lopsided smile. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise, Beverly, it’s not necessary. I just wish I’d been more vigilant. I should’ve known, I should’ve been more aware.” After a small moment, Deanna went on, “My focus was on the captain, I’d identified him in my mind as the one most at risk. And that caused me to let you, and your distress, to slip past my care. That was negligent of me, Beverly, and I sincerely apologise for my lapse.”   
She sat up and adopted a formal demeanour. “You’d be within your rights to lodge an official complaint of professional misconduct and negligence against me. If you choose to do so, I won’t contest it.”  
“Oh, Deanna,” Beverly smiled sadly, “get over yourself.” 

When Deanna scowled, Beverly lifted her head and chuckled, but it was a bleak sound. “This is me, you’re talking to, Deanna! This may come as a surprise, but you’re not perfect. You’re not infallible.”  
At seeing continued doubt on Deanna’s face, Beverly altered her tone. “You’re now agonising over something that didn’t occur. We both are. We share that actually,” Beverly said thoughtfully, “we share the burden of the ‘what ifs’. I guess it’s up to both of us to put those unrealised scenarios where they belong, in the realm of imagination. None of what we’ve agonised over happened. We have to let it go.”  
Deanna tilted her head as she contemplated what her friend had said. “There’s truth in what you say,” she said cautiously. “in fact, what you’ve just said would be very close to what I’d say to any of my patients in similar circumstances.” 

A small smile appeared. “Very well.” Deanna said firmly. “I’ll use this experience as a learning situation. You can be assured that I won’t be so focused that I allow others in need to escape my scrutiny.”  
“Wow. Your scrutiny.” Beverly chuckled again, this time with genuine amusement. “That sounds kinda ominous.”  
Barely suppressing her own amusement, Deanna shook her head. “Stop it, Beverly. I’m serious.”  
“Ok.” Beverly conceded, yet her lingering delight kept a wide, warm smile on her face. “Serious. Yes, ok, I can do serious.”  
Deanna gave up and laughed. 

Jean-Luc felt the tension the moment he stepped out of the turbolift. This was not a new phenomenon; the captain had often felt the nervousness of the more junior members of the crew whenever he appeared anywhere on the ship. But this was different. 

Years of experience allowed him to correctly identify the seat of the tension within scant seconds. It was Will, and that was highly unusual. He was by nature a genial man and quite popular with the crew. The bridge crew were sharing agitated glances, and each look was being directed ultimately at the first officer.  
Jean-Luc didn’t bother to take his place in the command chair, even as Will rose from the seat and stepped aside. Instead, quelling his own apprehension, he directed his feet to the ready room, saying over his shoulder, “You have the bridge, Commander. Join me in the ready room when your duties allow.”

Will’s reply was lost as the office doors closed.  
It was over half an hour before the door chime sounded. As the minutes had ticked by Jean-Luc had begun to think that Will was deliberately making him wait. It was mid duty, the day shift and, as the Enterprise was in a high orbit of Earth, and with no assignments looming, there was little going on aboard the ship, other than a few low-priority drills and routine maintenance. In fact, many of the crew were on leave. Only the bridge and sickbay were fully manned.  
Jean-Luc’s apprehension had slowly given way to irritation. His barked, “Come!” in answer to the door chime surprised him with its vehemence. He immediately strove to push his irritation aside. If he wanted Will to be open and honest with him, then starting out in a belligerent mood would not be particularly helpful.

The big first officer had heard his captain’s tone and entered with his jaw set. He stood before Jean-Luc’s desk, his eyes staring fixedly at the wall above his seated CO.  
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” he said with chilly formality.  
Jean-Luc took it all in. The militarily correct attention stance. The lack of facial expression. The clenched jaw and the refusal to meet his eyes. “Oh, dear.” Jean-Luc lamented silently. “It’s worse than I feared.”  
He had to handle this carefully. Over the many years they’d served together, Jean-Luc had allowed only six of his crewmembers to become close friends. Beverly, of course, Deanna, Will, Data, Geordi and Worf. Of those six, only Beverly, Deanna, Will and Geordi were still aboard.

Quite early in his career, especially once he’d become a captain, Jean-Luc had determined that he should be somewhat removed from his command staff. This was in part a natural character trait of his, developed as he’d matured, but he also felt that there should be a certain level of separation, in order to maintain the desired command structure.  
In doing this he hoped to eliminate any of the common pitfalls that occurred when a captain became too enmeshed in the lives of the senior staff. Friendships were all well and good, but if a conflict of interest arose because a captain was unable to make a crucial command decision due to that friendship, then that held the potential to put a ship and all of its crew in peril.  
And yet … he sighed inwardly as he recalled just how dear these people were to him. Some commanders encouraged a somewhat lax, overly familiar relationship with their senior staff. Others adopted a strict, cold command method. Neither of those were Jean-Luc’s style. He strove for the middle ground, perhaps leaning towards aloof, but never uncaring. He managed to achieve an efficient, relaxed atmosphere, with his quiet, understated, yet unmistakably solid authority.   
He didn’t have to raise his voice. He didn’t need to micro-manage. Nor did he need to engage in jocularity or overt comradery. His crew wanted to do their best because their captain always did his best. His example worked. It was why he was the captain of the flagship, and why the ship was always staffed by the best Starfleet had to offer.

Having quelled his sour mood, Jean-Luc sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, and clasped his hands in his lap. He projected a calm and poised senior officer, exactly as he intended. “Sit down, Commander.” he said mildly.  
A tiny frown made a brief appearance as Will did what he was told. It vanished just as quickly. This was not going as he expected. But then, he wasn’t certain he knew why he’d been summoned, though he suspected he had a fairly good idea.  
Even seated, Will insisted on maintaining his rigid poster and still wouldn’t meet Jean-Luc’s eyes.  
Will’s façade wavered as Jean-Luc said, “We need to talk, Will.”

The use of his given name surprised the man. He blinked as he tried to regather himself. “Sir?” he said cautiously, not yet willing to relax his guard.  
“Something’s bothering you, Will. I see it in the way the crew are reacting to you and …” Jean-Luc sighed and added, “And, I feel it too.”  
“I see.” Will spoke coolly, annoyed by what had been said. His obvious irritation caused Jean-Luc’s anger to make a brief resurgence. He quashed it savagely.   
“Will,” he began again, “we’ve always worked best together when we’re honest with each other. You’ve been my trusted right hand for an extraordinarily long period of time, and I’m grateful for every minute you’ve served with me. Indeed,” Jean-Luc smiled, “the fact that you’ve chosen, more than once, to refuse your own command to stay here, on the Enterprise … with me, speaks volumes about our relationship, both professional …” the captain hesitated momentarily before continuing quietly, “and personal.”  
Now the cards were being laid. Will’s eyes found his captain’s and he saw the unmistakable worry, sadness and, yes, friendship with their mossy green depths. Will’s body lost its rigidity and his head bowed. “Captain…” he said on a sigh.  
“What is it, Will? Is it something I’ve done?”

That question hit Will hard. He heard the sorrow and anguish in Jean-Luc’s query, and it caused him physical pain. He took a deep breath and, as he lifted his head and looked into his CO’s eyes, the words came. “How long have you known, Captain?”  
“How long have I known what?” Jean-Luc wasn’t going to commit to an answer until he was sure about the question.  
“About the aliens.”  
“Ah.” Jean-Luc eyebrows rose as he began to understand what had vexed the younger man. “The aliens.”   
He gave the subject some thought, sifting through the possible consequences if he worded his reply badly.

“I found out about the aliens … and their presence within Starfleet and the Federation Council not too much before you did.”  
Will nodded, though his expression, the slight sneer he showed, easily showed his distain. “Ok, so, what have you done about it?”  
A confused frown marred Jean-Luc’s brow. “What have I done about it?” Jean-Luc asked. “What are you asking me, Will? Do you somehow believe I should …” he threw his hands up in helplessness, “do what, exactly? What can I do?”  
Will shot to his feet, completely unaware that he had. Anger emanated from him in waves. His fists were clenched, and his blue eyes blazed.   
“Are you going to sit there and tell me you condone what’s been done? That you’re happy to do nothing while an alien species has infiltrated both Starfleet and the Federation Council? And you’re ok that they’ve been manipulating everything for over a century to suit their agenda? For god’s sake, Captain! What’s wrong with you?”

Jean-Luc was on his feet as quickly as Will had gained his. “That is enough, Commander!” he snapped, anger suffusing his face with a flush. “You will keep a civil tongue in your head when you address me, or I’ll…”  
“You’ll what?” Will shouted, interrupting defiantly. “Report me to your alien superiors?”  
It took Jean-Luc several long seconds to quell his outrage. He kept telling himself that this was an understandable reaction, especially given the stress of the recent mission. He took a steadying breath and said in a much quieter tone, “Sit down, Commander. Shouting at each other isn’t going to solve anything.”

Will obeyed his captain, but his anger was still palpable. His sullen silence spoke volumes.  
Jean-Luc sat quietly, studying the man before him. Eventually he found what he wanted to say. “You think I should do something about the aliens’ influences on our institutions, that I should somehow do something to change, or stop, a situation that’s been in progress for well over a century.”  
“Yes.” Will spat. “It’s your duty as a Starfleet officer.”  
“I see.” Jean-Luc replied mildly. “So, just what is it you think I can do?” Before Will could reply, Jean-Luc held up his hand. “Now, wait a minute, Will. Think about this.”   
He summoned a small sigh and began to count on his fingers. “We know that the aliens have been here, within the Federation Council and Starfleet for over a century. We know that this is but one timeline available to them, and they chose it based on what they saw for their continued existence in this future.”

Will interrupted, blurting, “Yes! Their existence! My point exactly!”  
Jean-Luc continued as if Will hadn’t spoken. “We know that due to their help…” he gave a gesture of concession and he amended, “their interference, as you prefer, the Federation has prospered.”  
“Ok,” Will said in a calmer tone, though only just. “Ok, I concede that we’ve been doing well, in general.” It was a pointed clarification and Jean-Luc acknowledged it.  
“Yes, in general terms” Jean-Luc agreed. But then clarified, “Perhaps not so well for individuals.”   
“No.” Will’s tone was derisive. “Not so much for the victims.”  
“Victims?” Jean-Luc asked. “While I agree you and I, Beverly, Deanna, Katya Kurnov … my children …” He had to stop while he struggled quell his rising anguish. He still had to blink away the sudden tears that threatened. “Yes, we were all victims, Will, everyone included, but victims of what and by whose hands?”

“What?” The first officer said angrily. He didn’t get to complete his protest.  
“Will,” Jean-Luc said quietly, “the aliens didn’t cause what befell us. They didn’t engineer it. This timeline … what happens in it is random. All the aliens saw was a future they felt suited them, one in which they existed. Other future timelines they investigated were not so positive. But having seen an acceptable future, that did not make them privy to the events that led to that outcome.”   
He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Will, as brutal as it is, life continues as it does regardless of what we desire. We may like to sail through our lives, untroubled, only experiencing the good things. But don’t you agree that if we’re not tested, either as individuals, or as a society, then we can never achieve our true potential? It’s more often adversity that promotes positive growth in those who endure it.”  
He sat back, momentarily at a loss as to how to help his friend. “Will, I can’t change what has been done. I admit that when I first learned of all this,” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “the aliens and what they’d done, like you, I was shocked and outraged. Yet, besides the overall proof of the benefits of what they’ve done, more specifically, I found I was also deeply impressed by the calibre of those Federation people, and Starfleet people, who chose to assist them.”  
Will sat back in his seat, shocked and confused by what his captain had said. Although there were elements of this conversation that he grudgingly agreed with, he still suspected his captain’s opinion was being influenced by far too much personal emotion.  
“Captain,” he asked coolly, sitting forward, “would you be so forgiving, such a fan, if the aliens hadn’t manipulated your memories of what happened to you? To your family?”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Jean-Luc asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.   
“Well,” Will said, sitting back and making a sweeping gesture with his hands. “It seems to have worked for you. I mean, that’s convenient, isn’t it? What’s to say that kind of manipulation hasn’t occurred on a much grander scale? That all our governing institutions haven’t been … similarly coerced? To make sure the aliens are viewed in only a positive light?”  
“I don’t know what to say, Will.” Jean-Luc offered, nonplussed. “The events occurred. The consequences, that being the ability for any hope of recovery for all those involved, would’ve been extremely difficult to achieve without their help. As for the larger picture …” Jean-Luc shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

He sighed and a frown deepened. “Over my life, I’ve learned to trust my gut instincts, Will, and those gut instincts of mine tell me that the aliens have only good intentions for us … and for the Federation.”  
There was a long silence before Will shrugged. “So, you’re laying the blame for what happened to you at the feet of Twenth, Lannit Yan and the broker?”  
“In essence, yes, although I would swap the broker for the Tholian. Other than that, yes.”  
Will’s eyes narrowed as he asked, “Are Rurke and Lannit Yan singing the right tunes? Has Starfleet Intelligence been able to get all they need to take the Tholian? Or…” he tilted his head in thought, “have they got him already?”  
There was no way for Jean-Luc to duck the questions. He held Will’s gaze and said quietly, Lannit Yan and the Tholian are dead, Will.”  
“Dead?” Will’s confusion was obvious. “How? When?”  
“Lannit Yan died soon after we’d spoken to him. The pilot…”

“Yan was executed?” Will was shocked.  
“He was eliminated once the contents of his mind, his thoughts, his experiences, were harvested. His death was swift and painless. Details of the crimes he committed have been sent to those law enforcement agencies wherever he’d been active. It will assist them in closing the open cases and, perhaps, give the relatives of his and Twenth’s victims some small measure of consolation.”  
“Jesus.” Will muttered. “Although I doubt he’s going to missed … Captain…” Something suddenly occurred to Will. “Did you know, sir? Were you aware of what was going to happen to Lannit Yan?”  
“No, Commander, I was not.” Jean-Luc declared firmly. “And, may I add, I was as disturbed by what was done as you are now. However, considering what Lannit Yan had done to me…” he paused and took a steadying breath. “I can’t say I protested too much.”  
There was a subtext to what his CO had just said, and Will wanted to know what it was. “Captain,” he said with quiet caution, “I know what you were forced to do…” Will hesitated when the older man frowned and briefly closed his eyes.   
Once the captain seemed to have passed that difficult moment, Will continued, “but there was more, wasn’t there. Twenth and Lannit Yan, they had plans for you, didn’t they.”  
“They did.” Jean-Luc whispered. He then cleared his throat and said in a stronger voice, “I’ve told you that they took something from me, something with which to continue with their plans to sell my progeny long into the future.”  
Will was disgusted, yet again. Yes, sir.”

Jean-Luc knew he had to elaborate on what had been done to him. Although he was reluctant, it was more about the accompanying embarrassment and shame than remembered anguish. Like all of his memories connected to those events, the damaging aspects had been removed.  
“As you know, I suffered repeated sexual assaults by both Lannit Yan and Twenth. This included several instances of oral rape inflicted upon me by Twenth, to collect a large amount of ejaculate, with which they intended to use to inseminate captured, certainly unwilling, compatible females of varying species.” 

Jean-Luc shook his head sadly as he continued. “Lannit Yan had already taken several barely pubescent females to begin the process. However, Rurke had managed to obtain my … reproductive matter from Yan. As you know, Rurke had it on his ship.”  
There was a momentary silence while Will waited patiently. Jean-Luc knew he understood when Will nodded slowly “Yes, Beverly did the analysis of the biological matter we detected. You realised what it was.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc sighed. “I had to destroy it, Will.”

You destroyed the…” he rolled his hand and Jean-Luc nodded in agreement to what Will already knew. “Yes, as I’ve already told you, I eliminated it.”  
“I’m glad, Captain” Will reaffirmed. “Far too many people had already been damaged by the actions of Lannit Yan and Twenth. It’s good to know that you’ve taken the actions necessary to be protected from further … torment.”  
Jean-Luc replied with a silent inclination of his head.  
“So,” Will leaned forward, hungry to hear more. “that leaves Rurke.”

Jean-Luc nodded slowly but said nothing. Will was far less shocked than before. He somehow suspected this would be the case.   
Jean-Luc’s tone was flat as he said, “The Tholian was captured and subjected to the same brain content harvesting as Lannit Yan. He met the same fate, eliminated quickly and painlessly once the procedure had ended. The information gained from this was crucial in uncovering corruption, treason, sexual predation and, in some cases, murder, within and without the Federation Council, Starfleet and, unfortunately, also involving some very influential corporate executives.”  
“I take it the aliens are behind all this? That it’s their technology at work? I mean…” Will’s expression was a sour one. “Brain content harvesting? I shudder to think what it means if we’re responsible for that, and by that, I mean us. The uninfluenced Federation members and Starfleet.”

“Will…” Jean-Luc sighed, sad that his exec was still holding a bias against the aliens. But he wasn’t going to help his younger friend by avoiding the harsh realities of the truth.  
“Yes.” he conceded, firmly “It was the aliens’ technology that was used, but I would like to point out that that same technology was being used by Global Warp Technology to line the pockets of the CEO, Carl McCormack, and others. He was selling his and the aliens’ refined tech to the Tholian. Who knows how far-reaching the effects of that treason extended? Starfleet Intelligence now know who bought it from the Tholian, but as to where it was on-sold? That will take time to unravel.”  
Will was beginning to see the true scope of what had been uncovered. “The dissemination …” he began thoughtfully, “the speed of what the Federation citizens are being told about the aliens’ influence and how long it’s been happening? That’s deliberate?”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc confirmed firmly, yet quietly. “The first thing that must be avoided is panic.” Jean-Luc smiled and gestured to Will. “Your reaction is typical. Understandable, and all-too common, but unhelpful in the long term.”   
His smile widened. “The second thing to be avoided is the predictable backlash. No one likes to feel they’ve been deceived … hoodwinked. Yet that’s how all this seems. Until one looks carefully, researches what reliable information is readily available, then it’s quite easy to assume the worst.”

The commander gave that some thought and then said, “And eventually there’ll be full disclosure? That everything the aliens have done will be open to the public?” Will asked, further warming to what his captain was telling him.  
“Yes, Will, everything. And it’s my belief that once the public see, and understand, how we, the Federation, have prospered through the aliens’ assistance, then acceptance is inevitable.”  
He held up one finger. “Though not through coercion, not through lies, but via honesty and integrity.”  
The exec gave what he’d been told some more thought and arrived at an interim decision. “Ok, Captain, I think I may be on board with all this.”   
He sighed and shook his head. “There’s so much to think about…”

“Indeed.” Jean-Luc said with a smile. “For many, many people, Will. You’re but one of billions. I have confidence, however,” the captain smiled, “that the wiser heads will eventually prevail.”  
A remnant of defiance remained in Will, evident when he remarked, “And that’d be just what the aliens want.”  
Jean-Luc shrugged. “Everyone must arrive at their own decision about all this, Will. The coming years will have peaks and troughs, as is usual with such confronting issues.”  
“Agreed.” Will summoned a small smile of acceptance. He then squinted a little and said, “You haven’t said anything about Rurke.”  
Jean-Luc pulled down the corners of his mouth as he considered the commander’s remark. Once again, he opted for his trust in the man and the truth.   
“He’s still alive.” 

Before Will could say anything, Jean-Luc elaborated, “He’s a unique player in all this, Will.” he sighed. “I’m not going to plead his case, I’m not privy to all the relevant information about him, but from what I’ve been told, it seems there are some mitigating factors in Rurke’s behaviour.”   
He shook his head as he continued, “There was enough evidence to spare him, Will. In return for his assurances that he will give up his work, it’s been decided that he can retire to his family, to live out what remains of his life in total obscurity.”  
The big first officer was justifiably outraged. “So, he just gets a free pass?” Will spat angrily. “Wow,” he continued sarcastically, “it seems justice is arbitrary with the aliens.”   
“There has to be balance, Will.” Jean-Luc admonished gently. “There’s no doubt Rurke committed many questionable acts at the behest of the Tholian, and, yes, for others who employed him, and yet he demonstrated, again and again, that he held some kind of moral standard.” 

Jean-Luc held up his hands and shook his head with exasperation. “Look, Will, I can’t give you all you need to understand this, I don’t have all the answers. All I can tell you is that what I’ve been told … and shown ... about Rurke has enabled me to be satisfied with the decisions made about him. If you want to know more, I can point you to where you can access that information.”  
Will’s gaze was a measuring one. “Captain,” he said quietly, “the more you say, the more I find reasons to doubt what’s happening.”   
He raised a hand to forestall any response to continue quickly. “But I get it, I hear what you’re saying. I’ll consider what you’ve said with as open a mind as I can give.” Will, sensing that the conversation had reached its conclusion, stood, and finally summoned a smile for his captain. “Thank you, sir.”  
“You’re welcome, Will.” Jean-Luc used the man’s given name again, deliberately. “Always.”  
Once Will had exited, Jean-Luc was left to contemplate his upcoming session with Deanna. For the first time, he viewed it with optimism.

Deanna knew her captain was approaching her office. Even without his current state of mind, she was so attuned to him, she sensed him well before he reached her door. Not wishing to pre-empt the man, Deanna waited until she heard the door chimes sound before responding mildly, “Come in.”  
Jean-Luc was all-too aware that his counsellor was cognisant of not only his appearance at her office but that he was somewhat apprehensive about the coming session as well, despite his earlier optimism. Many years of serving with her had taught Jean-Luc many things about his counsellor, chief among them; to never underestimate her. Not her natural abilities, or the high standard of her professional skills.  
He summoned a small, unconvincing smile as he entered, saying quietly, “Counsellor? I believe we’re scheduled for a session?”  
“Indeed, we are, Captain.” Deanna smiled her reply as she gestured to a seat. “Would you like something, sir? A tea, perhaps?”

“No.” he replied, seeming reluctant to take a seat. However, once seated he changed his mind. “Actually,” he began, somewhat hesitantly, “An Earl Grey might be nice.”  
He was silent as he listened to the oft-repeated order. “Tea. Earl Grey, hot.”  
His eyes settled on the steaming cup as Deanna set it on the low table in front of him. She silently assessed him, while she took her seat, maintaining a constant check of his emotional status. For several long minutes, Jean-Luc remained silent.   
He didn’t touch his tea. Deanna was used to this from her captain. He required time to marshal his thoughts. The more difficult the experience he needed help with, the longer it took him to summon what was required for him to broach the subject.   
In this instance, Deanna was intrigued. The aliens had removed the damaging aspects of her patient’s memories, and she sensed his underlying willingness to engage with her. He should have been able to talk about them freely, and yet he was somehow constrained.

She decided to break the impasse. “Keeping silent won’t help, Captain. You know that.”  
“Yes,” he sighed and briefly closed his eyes. “I do know. I know all too well.”  
“Then why are we playing this game?” Deanna’s tone was deliberately cool. It had the desired effect. Jean-Luc’s head snapped up from its lowered position and he speared her with a hard glare.  
Although he spoke softly, his anger was obvious when he replied, “I can assure you, Counsellor, I am not playing any game.” His lips thinned as he took a deep breath and strove to regain his composure. “I no longer experience anguish when I think about what happened … what I did, yet I still experience crushing guilt. I cannot escape the knowledge of what I did. It would’ve been bad enough if I’d been forced to rape some complete strangers. But it wasn’t strangers.”  
He sighed and his head lowered again. He clasped his hands between his knees, making Deanna note he had not chosen to sit back in his chair, but rather, perched on its edge. He continued quietly, “It was Beverly, my wife … the mother of my children, and Katya Kurnov, a member of my crew.”

He shook his head as he added, “It was so much more than a physical and emotional violation, Counsellor. It was also a violation of trust.”  
Deanna gave what he said some consideration. She knew he still felt guilt. She had hoped that removing the damaging effects of the memories would enable him, and the others, to move forward. It seemed that was not the case with her captain. She was aware that Beverly was making headway in her recovery and, from what she’d heard about Katya, she thought the signs were positive for her, too. Not so with her CO.   
Part of her wasn’t surprised. Not only was he the assailant in the forced assaults, but being a very deep thinker, a contemplative man, and one who always took complete responsibility for his actions, getting him past the stumbling block of what he knew he’d done was always going to be difficult.

“So,” Deanna said with deliberate, yet mild exasperation. “although you can think about what happened without experiencing anguish, you’re choosing to hang on to your feelings of guilt.” Deanna’s exasperation was clear. “For what purpose? Are you looking for a reason to punish yourself?” Her gaze hardened as she added, “A reason to run away, perhaps?”  
“How dare you!” Jean-Luc growled as he shot to his feet.  
Not intimidated in the least, Deanna waved at his chair as she said tiredly, “Sit down, Captain. Histrionics aren’t helpful.”  
Jean-Luc gaped at this new attack. He was about to say something harsh in preparation to stalking out of the office. However, what Deanna said next robbed him of speech.  
“That’s it, isn’t it. You think that you should be punished, that’s it not right that you shouldn’t face some kind of retribution for your perceived crimes, even though you know you weren’t responsible. So, you choose to punish yourself by fostering your guilt. By feeding your guilt.”

“No.” Jean-Luc whispered as he shook his head. His knees bent as he slowly sat, a bewildered expression on his face. “I wouldn’t do that…” he looked up and asked softly, “would I?”   
Deanna shrugged diffidently. She was tempted to take pity on him, to give him an easy way out, yet she knew that wouldn’t be at all helpful. So, she kept up her somewhat brutal attitude. “Well, it’s worked for you in the past. I seem to remember a retreat into alcohol.”  
Pain flashed across Jean-Luc’s face. That pain was evident in his voice as he said piteously, “Deanna…”  
She dismissed his softly spoken protest with a wave of her hand. “There’s no evading it, Captain. You resorted to continuous inebriation rather than face what had happened.”  
She relented slightly when she continued, “Since when have you ever done that? Not after your assimilation by the Borg. Not after your torture at the hands of Madred. Both of those experiences were deeply personal and extremely traumatic. So, why now? Why are you so unwilling to accept that what happened wasn’t your fault? That you simply cannot be blamed for what transpired?”  
There was a lengthy silence before Jean-Luc replied. His voice held a pathetic helplessness that Deanna had rarely ever heard from him. “Perhaps,” his voice broke, and he took a moment to regather his composure. “Perhaps,” he began again, this time a little stronger. “it was one time to many. That I felt too ashamed…”

Deanna knew this admission was important. She said nothing, allowing her silence to encourage the man to further express himself.  
“Sometimes,” he whispered, “I don’t think I deserve the happiness I have. And the shame I feel over what was done to me…”  
Deanna shook her head, so exasperated she interrupted. “Captain,” she protested, “you’ve always viewed obedience a commandment and happiness an indulgence. When …” she did her best to calm herself and modulate her voice. “when,” she continued in a quieter tone, “are you going to accept that you deserve happiness? That your experiences, the terrible ones, haven’t been lived because you did anything wrong? In any individual, there’s no such thing as perfect. To even strive for perfection is somewhat hubristic.” 

She reordered her thoughts and continued, “Captain,” she began gently, “shame eludes precision, and shame and masculinity have a reciprocal relationship, as archaic as that seems. Shame is powerful because it dwells so deeply in what’s unspoken. Almost all other emotions are easier to define. But not shame. It lives in a much more complicated, harder to define and harder to reach spaces.” Deanna frowned as she sensed Jean-Luc’s worry. “There’s a vagueness to shame that, rather than allow dilution of its power, it somehow manages to intensify it. Shame magnifies in the mind; it manages to compound and redouble.”  
She sighed and made a giving gesture with her hands. “You’re only human, Captain, and like every other species, flawed. That’s an inescapable reality. To hold yourself to a higher standard is one thing, but to make that standard so high that it’s unobtainable is a sure-fire way to make sure you fail. And then what?” Deanna sighed and offered a shrug. “Self-flagellation? Eternal damnation?”

That drew a derisive grunt from Jean-Luc, and he brushed away his counsellor’s words with a small sweep of his hand.  
“That’s utter rubbish, Counsellor.” he remarked with a sardonic smile. “It’s ludicrous of you to even suggest that I’m indulging in emotional self-harm. Shame driven or otherwise.”  
“Is it?” Deanna’s cool tone sharpened Jean-Luc’s mind. His first instinct was to remonstrate with her, to complain and protest. He resented the implications, and yet he had to give her comments due consideration. After some tense moments in which he was forced to reconsider his stance, he sighed and offered wry, yet sad smile.   
“You don’t take any prisoners, do you.” He shook his head as he said it and then added, this time with an edge to his voice, “And you don’t play fair.” The smile that had flirted with his mouth vanished. “Not that I expected anything else.”  
“Play, Captain?” Deanna replied with gentle sarcasm. “Are we back to that again? Are we still playing a game?”  
Irritation made a brief appearance on his face. It was quickly replaced by what Deanna could only describe as sardonically displayed defeat. However, what her patient said next angered her. “I am what I am.” Jean-Luc uttered blandly as he added a shrug. “Why do you expect me to be anything else, but what I am?” 

“Unacceptable!” Deanna spat, not caring how disrespectful she was being. “Why are you doing this, Captain?! Why are you doggedly adhering to the guilty-as-charged schtick? Are you afraid of admitting the truth? That you aren’t responsible for what happened, and that your wife and family will still love you … that they’ll continue to love you, regardless of the bullshit you pile upon yourself. The only person you’re harming, is you!”  
A charged moment passed while Jean-Luc tried to rally a defence. Her declarations were enough to shake him out of his entrenched and well-worn behaviours. Taking a deep breath, he gave her a long, speculative look before offering a slow nod. “You’re right, of course. About everything you’ve said.”

He sighed and briefly closed his eyes. “The habits of a lifetime are hard to change.” He held up a hand to silence whatever it was that he sensed Deanna was about to say. “But habits are just that. Habits. Not set in stone, not impossible to change.”  
“Yes.” Deanna said with a small smile, finally sensing his emotional shift. “There is truly little that’s completely set in stone, Captain. Especially if change is desired and embraced.”   
Her smile faded as she said with quiet intensity, “There’s a lot at stake here, sir, and I’m not going to accept anything but a total commitment from you.” Her gaze was intense as she added, “And the rejection of shame.”  
Jean-Luc struggled to reply as he abruptly and unexpectedly choked up. He nodded while he cleared his throat, attempting to buy time as he searched for his voice. “You have it.” he eventually said, though it was a whispered reply.  
Deanna smiled with sympathy. Her own eyes misted as the man’s emotions washed over her. “Thank you, Captain.”  
She then gave herself a mental shake and moved back into counsellor mode. “You and Beverly are sharing a bed. Tell me about that.”  
Jean-Luc took a deep breath and, hesitating at first, soon found his footing and opened up.

“Hello, Commander.” Katya schooled her features as she spoke to Will. She wanted to be more confident in how she was being received before she lowered her guard.   
Will narrowed his eyes before giving his head a shake and casting aside his initial, negative thoughts. He adopted a welcoming twinkle of his eyes and offered his trademark grin. “Ms. Kurnov.” he grinned. “It’s good to hear from you.”  
Katya had always liked the executive officer. Unlike many others, she didn’t find him desirable, her admiration of the man wasn’t based on anything sexual. Her kind feelings toward him were based more on the kind of senior officer he was.   
His command style encouraged those who served under to him to do their best. Katya acknowledged that her former captain, Jean-Luc Picard, gained the same results, though through a much different command style. An errant thought intruded as she briefly contemplated the old adage. “Whatever works.”

To Will, she summoned a genuine smile. “Thanks, Commander, that’s nice of you to say.”  
“Given that you’re not a serving officer anymore, maybe you should call me, Will.” The big man grinned again, finding humour when his suggestion caused Katya to blush.  
“Shit.” Katya shook her head with exasperation. “This stuff is ingrained, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question and Will just shrugged. Then he offered, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Ms. Kurnov.”  
A wry expression crossed the woman’s face. “Katya.” she said firmly. “If I’m to call you, Will, you’ll have to refer to me by my given name.”  
“Fair enough.” Will said with a warm chuckle. “Ok, Katya, what can I do for you?”

She really appreciated his attitude. It gave her some much-needed confidence, and courage. “Will,” she began hesitatingly, “I want a meeting with Picard.” she frowned as she amended, “With Captain Picard.”  
“A meeting with the captain?” Will’s caution was obvious. “Ah, Katya, he’s dealing with a lot right now and…”  
“You think I’m not?” Katya spat angrily, before making a concerted effort to calm herself. She tried again. “Look, Will, all of us, everyone involved in this shitshow, you included, are dealing with stuff. Just because the aliens removed all the damaging shit, doesn’t mean everything’s all hunky-dory. I need to talk to him, to the man who …” she hesitated for beat before summoning the grit to say, “… raped me. Who impregnated me.”   
She shook her head as she strove for the right words. “Look, I get it, I really do. I accept it wasn’t his fault. But he told me some stuff and I said some stuff … and I need to talk to him about that. Just us, him and me.”  
Will was silent for a moment before giving a nod. “Yeah, I can understand that.” He sighed and offered a small smile. “I’ll ask him, Katya, it’s all I can do. If he refuses…”  
“Fair enough,” she sighed, suddenly deflated. “I’ll …” she gave an undefined wave of her hand. “Maybe I’ll hear from you…”  
“As soon as I have his response, Katya. Guaranteed.”

“Thanks…”   
The channel closed and Will swore softly under his breath. “Damn” he thought sourly. “This was supposed to be all over.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Seems maybe not.” He straightened and lifted his head in preparation to calling his captain. He really didn’t want to make the connection. “Riker to Picard.”

Beverly was putting James’s dinner on the table when her husband entered their quarters. She glanced up at him, immediately noting his pale, fragile appearance. Instead of reacting to that, she wisely chose to carry on as if his visage were acceptable. “Hello, Jean-Luc,” she said brightly. “James is just about to have dinner and Elly’s waiting for a play with her papa.”  
“Oh,” Jean-Luc said, somewhat blindsided by Beverly’s reaction. Somehow, he’d expected her to know how brittle he felt and that she would instantly drop everything to help him. “Yes,” he affirmed cautiously. “I’ll go and play with her now…”  
Beverly kept a quiet eye on her husband, even as she ushered their son to the table. James chatted, as was his wont, and his mother managed to engage him as usual. She covertly watched as Jean-Luc settled on the floor with their daughter and immersed himself in their play. James glanced at his father and offered a slight frown. “Maman,” he began, “will papa read to me tonight?”  
Beverly was concerned by the question but opted to offer a warm smile. “I’m sure he will, James.”

The boy sent a dubious look towards his father before shrugging. “I suppose.”  
Beverly was deeply concerned by their son’s response. “James,” she said quietly, “what is it?”  
The boy looked up, several expressions warring for dominance on his face. He eventually settled for a frown. “Is papa ok, maman?”  
Beverly gave the query some quick consideration and decided her son needed a gentle version of the truth. He was far more aware than someone his age should be.  
“He’s having a bit of trouble, James.” she replied with a tender smile. “The bad stuff that happened will mean it will take a while for him to get better. Our new alien friends have helped a lot, and aunt Deanna is helping us too. So, although papa is having a bit of trouble now, I’m sure he’ll be feeling better soon.”

Her continued warm smile added weight to her words and James offered a more confident reaction than his former one. “That’s good, maman.” he said. “I want you and papa to be happy again.” He glanced at this father, sitting on the floor with Elly while catching, (or fetching,) and then returning everything she threw, somewhat haphazardly, at him.  
“Elly wants you and papa to be happy too.” James declared solemnly.  
Beverly hid her smile this garnered, admiring how her son had added his sister to his wishes for his parents’ recovery. “I’m sure you’re right.” Beverly nodded, taking the opportunity to place a tender kiss on James’s brow. “Now, you eat your dinner, and if you eat it all, there might be some ice cream for dessert.”  
The lad’s eyes widened. “With chocolate topping?”

“Maybe.” Beverly replied with a wink.  
After James had indeed finished his dinner, and then having demolished a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate topping, he was permitted to play while Elly was fed, Jean-Luc taking on that duty easily. Once both children had been fed and bathed, Jean-Luc read to them, one at a time, and then they were put in their beds. James fell asleep quickly, though Elly stayed awake for half an hour before eventually succumbing to the land of nod.  
Beverly and Jean-Luc found themselves sitting in a blissfully quiet living area, suddenly feeling awkward about talking. Predictably, it was Beverly took the bit between her teeth. “You attended your session with Deanna?”  
It was a largely rhetorical question; she already knew the answer. Although her friend hadn’t contacted her about it, Beverly knew her husband was committed to accessing the counsellor’s help.  
“Yes,” he replied before sighing and shaking his head. “It was … difficult.”

This confused the doctor. “Difficult? Why? The aliens … what they did … didn’t it work for you?”  
Jean-Luc was quick to reassure his wife. “Yes, it did. I’ve no damaging psychological effects from my memories…” he sighed again and offered a shrug of helplessness. His next words carried the sorrow of his emotions. “It’s guilt and shame, Beverly. I feel so guilty and so ashamed about what I did…” he held up his hand and added quickly, “What I was forced to do.”   
He summoned a small, sad smile. “I accept I wasn’t responsible, I do, but I remember everything, the sights, the sounds … the smells…” He heaved a sigh. “It’s the residual guilt, and the shame…” He closed his eyes and his voice broke as he continued, “Katya Kurnov … she wants to meet with me…”

“What?” Beverly blurted as she shot to her feet.  
He waved her back down. “No, it’s all right.” he managed a weak smile. “She has a right…”  
“A right for what? Beverly’s instinctive need to protect her loved ones rose quickly. “A right to do what?” she spat.  
Jean-Luc’s expression was a mild one. “She has a right to talk to me, Beverly. That’s all she’s requested.”

“When did you hear about this?” Beverly was beginning to understand why her husband had looked so fragile when he came in.  
“I’d just left Deanna’s office.” Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly and gave his head a small shake. “Will contacted me. Apparently, Katya had called him and requested a meeting with me. He hedged, and tried to put her off, but she was adamant.”   
Beverly was about to protest when Jean-Luc clarified, “Will told me she was calm, Beverly, and not only that, but she also told Will that she had accepted that I wasn’t to blame for what happened.”  
The doctor gave that some consideration and was about to concede when a new thought rose. “Does that mean…” she began hesitatingly, “that she’s also given up on blaming you for our staying on Haven too long?”  
The captain grimaced as he replied, “That I don’t know. I can only hope that’s so in any case.”

“When’s she coming?” Beverly managed to keep her tone mild, though she still didn’t think a meeting between her husband and Katya was a good idea. Maybe later, much later, but not yet. Her husband’s fragility was too close to the surface. It would take little to push him back into a state of trauma.   
“That’s something I suppose we’ll set once I respond to her request.” Jean-Luc informed.  
It was becoming difficult for Beverly to control the urge to insist he refuse to see Katya. “And when are you going to do that?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged as he replied, “I think the sooner the better, Beverly. The longer I put it off, the longer it hangs over my head.” He offered a sardonic smile as he added, “The sword of Damocles has hung above me for far too long already.”  
His attempt at gallows humour brought a wry smile to Beverly’s face. Trust Jean-Luc to find a way to make light of the situation. It was with a reluctant nod that she nodded her acceptance of his decision. “Ok,” she said quietly, but then held an index finger for emphasis as she added, “But you make sure she comes here, to the ship. And, if possible, have her meet you in our quarters.”

He gave his wife a long look and there was a smile lurking, not quite there, on his face but close enough for Beverly to detect it.   
“And you’ll be where, exactly?” he asked, the timbre of his voice also carrying his barely hidden humour.  
Jerking her thumb towards their bedroom, Beverly’s expression hardened. “If I get my way,” she said firmly, “I’ll be in there, sitting on our bed, ready to shut the meeting down if it goes awry.”  
Jean-Luc’s humour fled as a frown appeared. “Beverly, much as I’m grateful for your willingness to assist me … to defend me … I’m afraid I must insist on meeting Katya on my own.” He held up a hand to silence whatever Beverly was going to say. “No, Beverly, this must between me and Katya. She’s requested this meeting for whatever reason she has. The least I can do is agree and hear what she has to say.”  
He summoned a smile and added, “I will ask if she’ll come to the ship, however, being here,” he made a gesture to encompass the entire ship, “might be too much for her. It might provoke too many bad memories. Despite what the aliens did, there is the possibility she may be needing to find some sort of closure. If my experience of still feeling guilt and shame is any yardstick, she may be feeling some kind residual trauma that can only be eliminated by talking with me in a situation … a place that she feels comfortable with.”

Beverly huffed out an irritated breath. She didn’t want to agree with him, yet she knew, she acknowledged, that she had no basis to refuse him or deny the truth what he’d said.  
“Oh, very well.” she huffed begrudgingly. “However, if it gets bad, walk away, Jean-Luc. Please, promise me you won’t allow her to cause any added emotional damage.” Beverly gestured towards their sleeping children’s rooms. “You’ve got so much to lose…”  
He rose from his seat and joined his wife on the settee. Taking her hands in his, he looked into her eyes as he said, “And there’s even more to protect, Beverly.”  
He sighed as he gathered his thoughts. “Beverly,” he began quietly, “when I think of you, I find I want to laugh aloud. That’s my first reaction. Just the thought of you makes me so happy. The utter absurdity that you love me as much as I love you…”   
Tears welled in his eyes as he continued, “If I allow myself to think of life without you, I experience a devastating emptiness. I’m not going to risk that happening, I’m not going to risk putting our relationship in any jeopardy, Beverly. I’m determined to avoid that at all costs.” He summoned a watery smile. “You’ll have to trust me, dear Beverly, trust me to know what I can take from Katya … and what I can’t … or won’t.”  
Beverly leaned forward and kissed her husband. What began as an expression of love and support slowly changed as passion began to rise. Jean-Luc pulled back, slightly panicked. Beverly smiled her understanding and stood, still holding his hands. “Come to bed, Jean-Luc.”

He hesitated, so Beverly gave his hands a gentle tug. “Come on, it’ll be all right.”  
He allowed her to lead him to their bedroom and then shook his head, saying quietly, “Beverly … I don’t know what you want…”  
She offered a gentle smile and said with profound tenderness, “I want you, Jean-Luc.”  
They undressed, admittedly somewhat awkwardly, but once in bed, Beverly took control. “Close your eyes.” she instructed.   
His tongue appeared to wet his suddenly dry mouth. “Beverly,” he whispered hoarsely, “I don’t think I can do this…”

Beverly’s heart squeezed in sympathy as she heard the fear and panic in her husband’s voice. “It’ll be ok, Jean-Luc, I promise, just close your eyes and trust me.”  
He frowned at gave her a confused look, still unsure, mostly about himself. “Close my eyes? Why?” he asked, warily.  
She smiled and offered a quiet chuckle. “Are you doubting my intentions, Jean-Luc?” she then sobered and asked, “You do trust me?”  
Somehow, he found a small smile. “Implicitly.”  
Her smile returned. “Then close your eyes.”

He did so. Trusting his wife was one of the cornerstones of their relationship.  
He heard her sigh and he smiled; he’d heard her do that countless times in bed. It always preceded untold pleasure. And yet he flinched when Beverly hand found his chest.  
“It’s ok,” she whispered, “just concentrate on what you feel.”  
His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed nervously. He felt he should say something. “Beverly,” he whispered, “you don’t have to do this.”  
“I know,” she replied. “and if I had to, I wouldn’t. I want to, Jean-Luc, I want to touch you and, if you want, you’re free to touch me in any way you feel comfortable with.”

Her hand, which had been splayed on his chest slowly began to move. In a circular motion she expanded her caress, taking in his pebbled nipples and going ever closer to his genitals. He was surprised to find himself hardening and concentrated on that, doing his best to put his fears, his doubts, aside.   
When his wife gently nuzzled his neck, he sighed in happiness and rising desire. “Yes…” he whispered.  
Her hand dallied in his pubic hair for a moment before suddenly descending to his penis. He gasped softly as she gripped him with tender care, stroking and encouraging him to stiffen further.   
“Beverly…” he gasped, “oh, yes…”

He reached for her, his hands finding her breasts, as he turned slightly on his side. His fingers then gently tweaked her nipples. “Mmm,” Beverly mewed, “more…” she said breathily.  
Emboldened, Jean-Luc continued his caresses and sent one of his hands towards her vulva.  
He had to stop as Beverly’s hands distracted him. She’d begun to stroke his cock, making sure his foreskin was fully retracted before pulling up again, something she knew he liked, and then repeating the action again and again, faster, and faster. Jean-Luc’s escalation to orgasm was unexpectedly rapid.  
Usually, he enjoyed a high level of control over his sexual responses and could make love to his wife over an extended period of time, regulating his reactions accordingly. But this was too much, too soon. It had been so long, far too long, and his control abruptly dissolved in the urgent need to find relief.

“Ah!” he cried out suddenly, “Beverly! I’m going to…”  
He said no more as his orgasm consumed him. He moaned his pleasure as his body twitched and spasmed through the process. In the wake of his relief he began to weep quietly, simply overwhelmed by what had happened. Ignoring the semen that covered part of his abdomen and the sheet between them, Beverly wrapped her arms around her husband and held him as his quiet weeping turned to broken, ragged sobs.   
He held her as tightly as she held him. They were both desperate for each other, yet for different reasons. Beverly to provide comfort, Jean-Luc, equally desperate to find it.  
It was a little over half an hour before Jean-Luc’s emotional storm passed. He was much calmer as he lifted his head from Beverly chest and eased his hold of her. She reached up and used her fingers to wipe away the remaining moisture under his eyes and nose. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yes,” he whispered his reply. More tears filled his eyes, but a tender smile graced his face. “Thank you, dear Beverly.”  
Her chin trembled as she replied, “You’re welcome, dear Jean-Luc.” Yet she managed to hold her composure. After taking a steadying breath, she continued with a gentle affirmation, “You needed it.”  
One of his eyebrows rose as he asked wryly, “The orgasm, or the crying jag?”  
Her reply was frank but not unkind. “Both, actually.”

His attempt at humour faded quickly. “You’re right, of course.” He sighed and offered a perplexed frown. “Why is it so difficult for me to admit that Beverly? Why has it taken me so long to let you help me?”  
Her answering shrug caused him to shift a little to give his wife more room in the bed.   
“Perhaps because you always want to do everything for yourself.” She declared in exasperation, before modifying her tone. “To try and fix what’s wrong on your own.” she qualified more gently. “And I guess that’s as much a result of your upbringing, the relationship you had with your father and brother wasn’t exactly nurturing, as much as the career you chose.

“A captain of a starship has to be somewhat removed, at least emotionally, from the crew … to try to appear indomitable, and you … we …” she amended carefully, “married each other relatively late in our lives.”  
She offered a forgiving smile as she added, “You were alone a long time, Jean-Luc. Alone by choice and a loner by nature.”  
“There’s truth in all that, Beverly,” he said, “but you’re wrong in one aspect.”   
He rose and propped himself on his elbow before reaching over and gently caressing Beverly’s face.   
“Wrong?” she whispered, relaxing under his touch. “How?”

“Because,” he paused to kiss her face, “I’ve been in love with you from the moment I first saw you.” His lips met hers and she sighed, knowing what he was going to do and enjoying her slowly building desire. He broke the kiss as his hand moved to her breast. “I’ve not been alone since that day, mon coeur, you have always been with me. In my mind and in my heart.”  
His name left her in a long sigh. His hand drifted between her breasts and then to her hip, making her flesh shiver under his fingers and, when those fingers gently parted her labia, she lifted her hips, seeking the contact she knew he would provide.  
He didn’t disappoint. She gasped as he dipped his fingers inside her, spreading her moisture and, when he slid his now slick fingertips over her clit, she cried out softly, one of her hands tightly gripping his wrist.  
He teased her for some long minutes before kissing his way down the length of her body all the while maintaining his intimate caresses. He felt his cock twitch, as if apologising, and letting him know it would love to harden, but it was too soon.  
He sighed softly, wishing he could achieve an erection stiff enough to penetrate. “Perhaps later.” he decided. He acknowledged that only time and circumstance would determine that.   
Beverly opened her legs, inviting what she yearned for. He settled between her thighs, taking a moment to savour the sights, the sounds, and scent of what his fingers were producing in his wife. His oral connection was sudden, and Beverly cried out, her hands pressing into the mattress and she raised her hips higher to deepen the contact.

Jean-Luc had always prided himself on his carnal skills. Ever since he began his sex life at the age of seventeen, he was determined that his partner would enjoy their time with him. He also learned the value of patience and delayed gratification. He developed quite an enviable reputation in his twenties as a reliable source for great sex. It wasn’t until later in his life that he finally understood the difference between a good fuck, simple sex, and making love. And it was around that time that he met Beverly.  
He had lived with his unrequited love for her for over thirty years, enjoying the occasional lover, yet more consumed with mind fuck, picturing Beverly as he frequently found the need to masturbate.  
It was one of the reasons he’d hesitated in pursuing her, especially after she’d rejected his offer of exploring their newly found knowledge of each other’s feelings post the Kes-Pritt incident.   
It was only because Beverly had changed her mind, years later and had taken the lead that he allowed himself to love her openly and without guilt or fear. It was the catalyst for their commitment to each other and subsequent marriage.   
Now, as his lips, tongue and fingers drew the love of his life towards orgasm, his eyes filled anew with tears, this time with love and heartfelt joy. He was where he’d always wanted to be, and he was content and complete.  
Beverly’s hands suddenly gripped his head as her upper body rose from the bed. She tried to contain her cries of ecstasy as her orgasm consumed her, somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she didn’t want to disturb their children, yet the release was too profound, too desperately needed.

The first orgasm was abruptly followed by a second. Jean-Luc rejoiced at this, more than used to his wife’s capacity for pleasure. He sensed there was more in store and continued, sliding two fingers in and out of her, pressing up against her G spot, while his tongue danced over her clit. Beverly exploded a third time before he slowly eased his actions, gently tapering off until he left her crotch and kissed his way back up her body.   
She mewed languidly when he kissed her, commenting quietly, “I can taste me…”  
“You are delicious,” he kissed her again. “and delectable,” another kiss followed, and then, “I will never tire of giving you pleasure, my beautiful Beverly.”  
“Pleasure?” her disbelief was clear. “For fuck’s sake, Jean-Luc…” she chuckled sleepily, “More … so much more than that …”   
She sighed as her eyes slowly drifted closed, “… pure, unadulterated ecstasy…” Beverly’s voice trailed off as she sighed, as her eyes finally closed.  
Jean-Luc settled beside his wife, knowing that they had closed a gaping emotional wound. And he had his beloved Beverly to thank for it. And that was something he was determined to do, to find a way to thank her. And soon.

Jean-Luc opened a channel to Katya the next day. He had woken with Beverly, absolutely delighted when she stretched and mewed in sensuous sultriness. “Mmm,” the suggestive sound of his wife voice sent a thrill through him, further stiffening his morning erection. “I feel like I’ve had a great time in bed with my husband.”  
He was emboldened to say, “There’s more if you want?”  
Her blue eyes darkened in arousal as she purred, “I do want, Jean-Luc.”  
He began to caress her, that was until Elly made her presence known. 

“Fuck!” Jean-Luc exclaimed angrily. His outburst, though the sentiment was shared, was one Beverly found amusing.  
“Sorry,” she struggled to keep the smirk off her face. “But ‘fuck’ seems to have been taken off the menu, Jean-Luc.” A chuckle burst through her defences. “Welcome to parenthood … yet again.”  
He had to laugh. Having children, especially in relatively quick succession, had been a steep learning curve for the longtime childless bachelor. In the early times of James’s life, he had sometimes found reason to resent the intrusion the baby had on his intimate time with Beverly, yet he simply couldn’t deny the joy and love the boy had brought into his life … their lives.   
So, when Elly was born, he was resigned to the occasional impositions their children imposed on their intimate lives. The benefits clearly outweighed the infrequently occurring disadvantages.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, emitting a short snort as Beverly danced her fingers over his still-hard cock.  
“Hold that thought.” she grinned before poking him in the ribs, eliciting a flinch and a grunt of mild irritation from him. This was exacerbated when she said jauntily, “I believe it’s your turn.” this was offered as she left the bed and entered the bathroom.   
Jean-Luc scowled when he heard the shower running, knowing there was no wriggle-room. He was left with no choice but to go and see to their daughter’s needs.   
So, Jean-Luc’s day had not begun as he desired. He strove to put his disappointment and sexual frustration aside when he initiated the call to Katya. 

Deanna watched Will as he sipped his coffee. They were on the same shift and she had some appointments that morning. Will was due on the bridge, but they had time for breakfast and a chat before they went their separate ways.  
As well as her quiet observation, Deanna was also monitoring her partner’s emotional state. He had calmed somewhat since talking to the captain, yet there were still some lingering concerns. Deanna knew that if she didn’t get him to talk about it, it would colour his mood for some time to come.

“Got much on today?” she enquired mildly. Will’s eyes, slightly clouded in thought, suddenly cleared as he brought his attention to his lover.   
He shrugged as he replied, “No, not much. As long as we stay here, orbiting Earth, I guess all we’ll be doing is drills for the different departments. As far as the physical maintenance of the ship’s concerned, we’re completely up to date.”  
“Then what I’m sensing from you isn’t anything to do with the ship or the crew?” Deanna had kept her tone mild, yet there was a sharpness in her steady gaze. It made Will growl and caused him to send her a sour look. “What are you sensing, Deanna?”  
Her reply was accompanied by a sardonic smile. “You want me to tell you what you’re feeling?” There was sarcasm evident in her tone now. “Really?”  
They stared at each other, indulging in a silent battle of wills. This happened occasionally. Sometimes Will won, more often, though, it was Deanna who triumphed. And Will suspected some of his victories had been more about his petite partner’s generosity. And pity.

He wasn’t in the mood for sparring. Holding up his hands in surrender, he heaved a sigh. “It’s just some niggling stuff, Deanna. More annoying than anything else.”  
“Even a small itch seeks to be scratched.”  
“Yeah,” Will chuckled and shook his head. “Ok,” he conceded, offering a smile. “I’ve told you about me talk with the captain. I get what the he said about how long the aliens have been here … and how there wasn’t anything he could do about it.”  
Deanna frowned and sounded confused as she interrupted Will, “Did you expect him to do something?”  
Now looking uncomfortable, Will shifted in his seat. “Well, yeah, I guess. I mean these aliens have been manipulating the Federation for over a century. I thought of all people who would want to put a stop to it, it’d be Jean-Luc Picard.”   
He sighed again. “Of course he remined me of how well, in broad terms, the Federation’s been doing, how we’ve prospered, and the staggering number of very highly regarded members of Starfleet and the Federation Council who’ve have been willing participants in the aliens’ influence over Council policy and stuff, and I felt stupid for being so damned naïve.”

Deanna’s expression was guardedly sympathetic as she replied, “And finding someone you admire, someone you trust implicitly, and totally respect, holds a view so completely at odds with you? Confronting, isn’t it?” Deanna commented gently.  
“Yeah,” Will shook his head. “that too.”  
He ran his hand over his beard and shook his head. “All the way through this…” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “it feels like we’ve been led by the nose. Like Juan Jimenez,” saying his old friend’s name made Will scowl. “was he in on it? Was he being directed by the aliens? And that Jinj’Le Captain, Geir? Him too?” He grunted angrily. “I dunno, Dee. It just feels like a giant set up.”  
Deanna gave what he’d said some thought and then shrugged. “The aliens have told us that they had no control over what events had to occur that would lead to the future they saw. All they knew when they’d looked into the future was that they existed in it.”   
“But does that make sense?” Will asked. “If everything’s all hunky-dory for the aliens in this timeline, why then manipulate us?”  
Deanna gave that some thought. “What I think about it, how I see it, is that they have a tightly focused sphere of influence. And by that, I mean that I don’t think their influence extends beyond the Federation and what it does, and that, of course, includes Starfleet.”

“So, you’re contending that everything that happened to the Picards and Katya were all just random, external shit that they were unlucky enough to be caught up in. Simple shitty, fucking, bad luck?” Will wasn’t too pleased with that. He snorted and made a sarcastically grand sweep of his hand. “If that’s the case, then why did the aliens bother to do anything? Why offer any help?”  
“I don’t know, Will.” Deanna’s tone was slightly admonishing. “But I do know that the Picards and Katya are alive and recovering because they helped.” She sighed and took a moment to calm herself. “Surely you don’t regret that?”  
The big man reacted immediately. “Of course not!” he spat, then just as quickly raised a hand in apology. “I’m sorry, Deanna, I shouldn’t be taking this out on you.”   
He summoned a small smile. “I guess what’s bugging me is that, although everything seems to be ok, I’m left feeling like I’ve been … well …used. Manipulated.”  
“Hubris is a sly beast, Will.”

His eyebrows rose at that, anger brewing in his hard, accompanying stare. Then the far more familiar Will emerged, and he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, god, Deanna” he exclaimed. “You can kick me in the nuts and smile while you do it.”  
He sent her a frankly admiring gaze, his love for her obvious. “You’re the epitome of the iron fist in a velvet glove, Deanna. Thank you for giving me the reality check I needed.”  
“Sometimes,” Deanna said quietly, tenderness in her eyes, ‘it’s hard to not feel that something isn’t personal, that there is a far bigger picture and that it’s not all about you. It’s normal, Will … and…” she gave a cheeky grin, “so very human.”  
“Ouch.” he feigned hurt. “All right, Counsellor Troi, session over.” He stood and tossed back the remains of his now cool coffee. “I’ve got to get to the bridge.” He bent forward and placed a kiss on the top of her head, and the said softly, “I love you, Deanna.”  
She turned and watched his broad back as he made his way to the doors. “And I love you too, Will Riker.”   
She felt his laughter and joy as he exited and walked down the corridor.

Katya narrowed her eyes as she picked up her comm device. Jean-Luc’s name scrolled across the top of the modest screen and she wondered briefly how he’d managed to remove his rank from the identifier.  
Rather than give it any more thought and perhaps lose her resolve, Katya stabbed the screen icon that connected the call. Her former captain’s face appeared, and her heart rate shot up.  
There was an awkward silence before Jean-Luc said quietly, “Hello, Katya. How are you?”

That he used her given name rattled her. She’d assumed he’d be his customarily formal self, staying safely behind the social barriers of ranks and honourifics.  
Her reply was out of her mouth before she was aware of it. “Captain!” she blurted. She then tried to salvage the moment. She failed. “Why are you asking me that?” Her dusky skin darked as a blush of embarrassment suffused her. She made some unintelligent sounds before giving up and mumbling, “Oh, fuck.”  
She wasn’t looking at the screen when Jean-Luc said, “I had a similar reaction to a summons to the academy’s commandant’s office during my final year. He was a Betazoid. It felt like a case of nowhere to hide. I said exactly what you just did, in his office, to his face, and I didn’t even know why I’d been summoned.”  
Katya’s eyes widened. “Shit. What’d he do?”

“He tortured me by being deliberately enigmatic. My poor mind was frantic as I tried to work out why he’d sent for me.”  
Katya had taken a seat and was staring avidly at the screen. “So why?” She asked, almost breathlessly. “Why had he summoned you?”  
Jean-Luc’s smile was a warm one, filled with quiet reminiscence. “He’d summoned me because I had achieved a top score for that year, my final one.”  
Coming from anyone else, such a pronouncement might have sounded like boasting. Katya didn’t hear that. She grinned as she shook her head. “Shit, Captain. What a prick.”  
She heard a soft laugh as he replied, “I believe I shared that opinion, Katya, but only after I’d left his office. Before then I was too terrified, and then too stunned.”  
“Ha!” Katya tossed, feeling unexpectedly relaxed.

Jean-Luc’s voice was very deep and gentle as he said, “You haven’t told me how you are, Katya.” Somehow, he managed to hide what the repeat of that question cost him. He dreaded her reply.  
Katya was momentarily knocked off balance. “Ah…” she began, scrambling for a steadier base. Jean-Luc saw her difficulty and, despite his own turbulent feelings, chose to ease her troubled mind.  
“It’s all right, Katya,” he said with gentle sincerity, “you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.”  
Somehow his quiet support cut through her mental block. “No!” she blurted before quickly finding some control. “No.” she repeated in a quieter, calmer tone. “It’s ok, I’m … I’m ok.” A smile appeared and it surprised Katya as much as it did Jean-Luc.  
“This isn’t going like I thought it would.” she admitted with an embarrassed smile. “I had a very different scenario in mind.”

Jean-Luc offered a sympathetic smile before saying, “Katya, please, I’m happy to conduct this meeting however you wish. Here on the Enterprise, or any another locale of your choosing. It’s up to you. I’ll comply with whatever you feel comfortable with.”  
“Ok…” Katya was again wrong-footed. The angst surfaced suddenly, causing her to speak far more harshly than she’d intended. “Why the fuck do you care?”  
Jean-Luc sat back from his device, his eyes closing as her anger washed over him. He chose to remain silent. Katya blinked in surprise and stuttered an apology. “Oh, fuck, Captain, I didn’t…” she closed her eyes and grimaced. “I didn’t mean to say…”  
Jean-Luc held up a placating hand. “There’s absolutely no need to apologise, Katya.”  
“Yes, there is!” The young woman declared firmly. “That’s not what I feel.” She took a deep breath and strove for calm. “Look,” she eventually said, “How about I come to the Enterprise? We can talk and clear the air.”  
“Of course.” Jean-Luc managed to find a genuine smile. “When would suit you?”

“Now.” Katya blurted, but then frowned and shook her head, before amending, “Thirty minutes from now?”  
“That’s fine. You’ll be greeted in the transporter room and escorted to an appropriate observation lounge, if that meets with your approval?”  
“Yes.” Katya felt like she was in a daze. “Yes, that’ll be fine.”  
“I’ll see you then.” Jean-Luc smiled and then terminated the link. Katya sat in silence for some seconds, until a new voice disturbed her thoughts.   
“That sounded … positive?”

She turned to see Tom walking towards her with a steaming cup. “Here,” he said as he offered the cup. “Plain black tea with a dash of milk and one sweetener.”  
Katya found a grateful smile. “Thanks, Tom.” She sipped and her eyes drifted closed in appreciation. Tom was the only person who had ever made her tea just as she liked it. She gazed at him over the rim of her cup and found a smile as he settled beside her. “Yeah, I suppose it was positive. It certainly wasn’t like I thought it’d be.”  
Tom offered a gentle smile as he commented, “Picard seemed, mellow? Or at least … supportive?”  
“He was, wasn’t he.” Katya agreed with a slow nod of her head. When she said nothing more Tom said quietly, “You want me to come with you?”

Katya gave the question some thought and nodded. “Yeah, I think I do, but maybe not with me. Maybe you could beam up ten minutes after me and lurk somewhere until I call you?”  
The chuckle that leaked out of Tom charmed Katya. She arched an eyebrow in silent query.  
“Lurk? You want me to just beam up to the Enterprise, the fucking flagship of Starfleet and just lurk.” He chuckled again and then shook his head. “Yeah … nah, Katya. That’s simply not going to happen. In order for me to transport up to the Enterprise, I’m going to have to either be invited, or I’ll have to request a meeting with someone on board and be granted permission.”  
Having rolled her eyes theatrically, Katya adopted a ‘no shit, Sherlock’ attitude. “I know that, Tom. I used to be in Starfleet, and I used to serve on that ship.” 

Tom didn’t get the chance to state that he knew that. Katya carried on quickly, “I’ve already got my permission to get on board, I spoke to Riker, remember. I know I preempted you, but like we discussed earlier, you’ll have to contact Troi to get aboard.” She then grinned. “And by lurk, I mean you request the meeting with Troi or someone, maybe Doctor Picard, and then just, you know, ad lib.”  
“Ad lib?” Tom’s face clearly showed his confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The laughter that came out of Katya soured Tom’s mood. “Are you taking the piss?” his tone was brittle.  
Immediately regretting her outburst, Katya was quick to apologise. “No, Tom, I’m sorry. It’s just your face … you looked so funny…” another snort of laughter threatened to break free, Katya managed to control it.  
Only barely mollified, Tom shook his head. “Jesus, Katya, you press my buttons sometimes.”

“I know I do, Tom, but I don’t mean to hurt you or upset you.” She sighed and a look of embarrassment crossed her face. “My parents always said I lacked any kind of filter.”  
That made Tom shake his head as he chuckled. “Yeah, well, you’ll pass.” he grinned as Katya joined him in finishing the saying, “With a push.”  
There followed a companionable silence before Tom asked, “So, ad lib?”  
“What I meant was just gas bag, you know, find a way to chat in a semi-serious way to pass time. Once I call you over the internal ship’s system, you can leave, and we can come back down to Earth together.”  
“Oh, ok.” Tom found a grin. “That could be a bit interesting, actually.”  
“Yeah, well you figure something out and then give Troi or someone a call. I’ve got to go.”  
She finished her tea, stood, and took a deep breath. Tom reached up and hooked her hand. “Just remember you don’t have to stay. If it gets hard, or if he starts being an arsehole, leave.”   
A small smile found its way onto Katya’s mouth and the winked. “I’ll be ok, Tom. Don’t worry, I’m not going to put up with any shit.”  
Nothing more was said as she left to make her way to the transporter station.

Of all the people on board the mighty starship she thought might meet her in the transporter room, the absolute last person she expected was Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Katya had imagined it might have been Deanna or, perhaps Beverly, but the man himself? No way.

Yet there he was, dressed in civvies and still looking a little pale, though it was obvious he’d regained some of the weight he’d lost. He stood straight, shoulders squared as was his usual habit and yet, although his authority was undeniable, there was a gentleness in his eyes that helped to ease Katya’s nervousness. She was suddenly remined of her interview in the forward lounge, and how in awe of the man she’d been.  
“Welcome aboard, Katya.” His voice was soft and deep. He gestured to the doors and it was then that Katya realised that he’d chosen not only to meet her as her escort, but he’d also operated the transporter himself. “If you’d like to come with me?”  
She nodded mutely while mentally kicking herself. “What the fuck is it with this man?” she mused with silent irritation. “It’s like he casts some kind of fucking spell!”  
Jean-Luc had selected a small observation room on the ship’s port side, deck 15, aft. As they entered the room, Jean-Luc standing back and gesturing her inside with his customary courtly manners, Katya’s eyes widened at seeing a small, yet beautifully arranged platter of fruit and cheeses on the table.

Two bottles of wine, one red and standing on its own coaster, and the other a white wine, the glass beading as it sat in a transparent chiller. An array of appropriate glassware was gathered in a cluster, sparkling even though the light was modest, and near the edge of the wood-trimmed table were two plates with several napkins laid on top, and with two serving tongs and two cheese knives as well.  
“Wow.” Katya said quietly, hugely impressed. “This is lovely, Captain. I didn’t think you’d…” she gestured to the table as she struggled to find her words, “that you’d…”  
Jean-Luc smiled and pulled back one of the chairs. He wisely chose to not usher Katya into it. Rather, once he saw she was willing to sit, he moved his chair, having already made sure it wasn’t too close to hers.  
His voice rumbled in his chest as he said with quiet sincerity, “I know it was you who requested this meeting, Katya, but I want you to know that I embrace it. I want to help you in any way I can.”   
He smiled and glanced at the table. “This is to welcome you back. The Enterprise was once your home. Your departure from her …” he frowned and briefly closed his eyes before continuing, “and the circumstances that caused your departure, left many onboard saddened. I want you to know, whether you’re in Starfleet or not, you will always be welcome here.”

Katya looked at the man seated just a metre or so away and then looked at the table. She was thoroughly rattled and yet charmed at the same time. To buy some much needed mental space, she reached out and picked up a plate. She was appalled to see her hand was obviously trembling.  
Jean-Luc had noted her difficulties, he was far too good at reading body language to have missed it. In fact, almost anyone could have easily spotted it. He said smoothly, “Would you like me to serve?”  
“Ah, yeah.” Katya replied dazedly. She then regathered her wits with a determined mental shake and said with far more confidence, “Yes, Captain, that’d be fine. Thank you.”  
As Jean-Luc took his time, allowing Katya to select or reject what was on offer as he placed the morsels on the plate, he chatted quietly. “The wine I’ve made available is quite good. The red is from my family’s vineyard in France. The white isn’t one of ours, we tend to put all our efforts into producing fine red wines, our region of France is more conducive for reds than whites. Would you like to try some?”

“Wine?” Katya was unsure. She really wasn’t a drinker. “I’m not sure, Captain. I fear your fine wine ... and the other one, would be wasted on me. I have no idea about wine.”  
He saw that there was enough on her plate and, as he offered it to her, he gave a one shoulder shrug. “That doesn’t matter.” he smiled. “Like many things, it’s about how it tastes. If you like it, you drink it.” his smile grew. “You’re not expected to critique it.”  
“Ah.” Katya nodded, a cheeky glint in her eyes. She was warming up, her previous nervousness dissipating. “Not that I could. You could serve me rat’s urine and I wouldn’t know.”  
“True.” Jean-Luc chuckled quietly. “But I seriously doubt rat’s urine has an acceptable taste.” he shrugged again and tossed, “Mind you, I’ve drunk some spectacularly bad alcohol in my time, so I suppose I’m no judge either.”  
“For fuck’s sake, Captain,” Katya blurted, barely controlling her laughter, “Stop being so bloody … normal!”

He bowed his head a little and looked through his lashes. His silence said far more than any words could. Katya suddenly realised that being a normal human was exactly what she needed him to be.  
Jean-Luc was well aware of his effect on others. It wasn’t something he deliberately fostered; it was simply how he was perceived. And he knew that if this damaged woman was ever going to be able to talk honestly with him … and to him … then he needed her to see him as a mere flawed, fellow human.  
In doing so he hoped she would see past her anger too, so she could find a clearer path and truth to her feelings. Whether or not he’d been successful, he would only discover if Katya truly opened up to him. And he to her.

As Tom closed the call, he snapped his fingers, saying triumphantly, “Thank you, Counsellor Troi.” He said it with a somewhat smug grin. However, a frown ushered the grin away. “Ok. I have a meeting with her in fifteen minutes. Now … ad lib. What is ad lib exactly and how do I do it?”  
The next few, frantic minutes were spent searching the vast information net. Eventually, he sat back and nodded. “Ad lib. Yeah, I can do that.” he muttered, trying to sound sure. His confidence, however, was paper thin.  
He materialised on the transporter pad aboard the Enterprise and found himself being escorted out by an ensign of a species he didn’t recognise. The being chatted in Standard and it took Tom a few moments for his ears to adjust to the being’s exotic accent. All too soon they arrived at Deanna’s office.

Tom thanked the ensign and pressed the door chime. The doors opened to Deanna’s soft call and he stepped in, hoping the smile he’d plastered on his face looked genuine. He’d completely forgotten that the counsellor was an empath.   
Smiles, plastered on or not, were only ever window dressing to Deanna, no matter who portrayed them. If the expressions didn’t match the emotions of the individual behind them, there would be consequences.  
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” Tom said.   
“Not at all, Tom. I just happened to have a quiet afternoon, I’ve no more appointments scheduled for today.”   
“I see.” Tom grinned. “Every crewmember on this ship is happy.”  
The comment, though said with a smile and delivered in a mild tone, sharpened Deanna’s focus. “Not exactly.” she replied carefully. “Quite a few of the ship’s crew are taking shore leave. The Enterprise doesn’t return to Earth all that often. It means I have far less counselling to do than usual.”

“Oh.” Tom frowned, momentarily left scrambling for a relevant comment. His eyebrows rose as he thought of one. “How many crewmembers are there? When the ship is full.”  
“Full?” The conversation was taking an odd turn. Tom had contacted her and requested a meeting, ostensibly to talk about Katya’s progress, or at least that’s what he’d intimated. Deanna now began to suspect he had another motive in mind.   
The counsellor knew Katya was on board and, at that very moment, was talking with Captain Picard. She’d been monitoring them and, so far, the meeting seemed to be going well.  
“Yeah full … as in filled up?” on seeing Deanna’s frown deepen, Tom hurriedly and hopefully, added, “Fully staffed?”  
“It can vary, but about 740 is the standard compliment.”

“Oh, I thought it’d be more.” Tom said, looking thoughtful. “She’s a whopping big ship.”  
“Why are you here, Tom?” Deanna asked carefully. His emotions were turbulent and becoming worse.   
Tom was beginning to feel panicked. He wasn’t a great conversationalist at the best of times. Unless he was really focused on a topic, especially one he was well informed about, he tended to struggle. And as for ad libbing? It seems he wasn’t particularly good at it, after all. He tried one last time to direct the conversation. “How many were on the other Enterprise? The old one?”   
Deann’s voice was soft yet cold. “Answer my question, Dr. Chalmers, or I will summon security and have you escorted off the ship.”  
He gaped. “You can do that?” he asked weakly.

“Of course, I can.” Deanna confirmed, still usure why the man was in her office. “In my position as ship’s counsellor I have that right, and in addition, I hold the rank of full commander.”  
Her tone became even colder as she added, “And may I remind you, you’re a civilian who seems to have come aboard under false pretenses. That alone would be grounds to hold you in a detention cell until civil law enforcement personnel deemed it convenient to come to get you. And that could take a while.” she added for emphasis. The threat was implied yet it struck home unerringly.  
Tom looked stricken. Although Deanna felt he wasn’t a threat, she wasn’t going to back down, not until she had an acceptable answer to her question. “I’ll ask you one more time. Why are you here?”  
Tom gave up. He threw his hands in the air before shaking his head and muttering a profanity. Deanna waited, sensing he’d capitulated.   
“Katya asked me to find a way to get aboard.” he blurted, before continuing with, “… and then I was to … ad lib.”  
“Sorry?” Deanna frowned, suddenly confused. “Ad lib?”

Tom gestured to a chair and Deanna gave him permission to sit. She was on her guard though; she was sensing some tumultuous emotions in the man.  
“I was worried about Katya talking to Picard. I get it though, I understand that she needs to talk to him, it’s just…” he left that thought unfinished and moved on. “So, once they settled on the meeting time and place, I asked her if she wanted me to accompany her. She thought about it and decided she wanted me here, on the ship, but not with her. “She suggested I get myself on board somehow and then she advised me to ad lib with whoever I ended up with to fill time until she called me and then we’d leave together.” 

“I see.” Deanna said carefully, finding he was telling the truth. “Tom, you intimated that this meeting with me was to discuss Katya’s recovery. That’s the only reason I agreed to it, that, and the fact I had the time. So, unless you really do want to talk about Katya’s recovery, I strongly suggest you leave.”  
“I can’t leave.” Tom said, panicked again. “I have to be here when she calls. I mean if she’s upset … if Picard’s given her shit … she could call me at any moment. I have to be here for her, Deanna.”  
His plea was heartfelt, and Deanna had to admit he had a point, though she was confident her captain would not give Katya any shit. In Deanna’s opinion if anyone were going to become upset, it would be far more likely to be her captain. “Alright,” she said with quiet resignation, “you can stay.”  
“Oh, god, thank you.” He was near tears.

Deanna went to the replicator and returned with two hot drinks. Hers, predictably, a hot chocolate. For Tom, she’d chosen a chamomile tea.   
He accepted the drink with a little suspicion as he noticed the pale, steaming liquid in the clear mug. “Ah,” he offered an unconvincing smile, “I don’t drink the herbal stuff.”  
“Have you ever tried it?” Deanna asked mildly.  
“Well, no…” Tom admitted reluctantly. “I like my tea the same as Katya has hers. Plain black tea with a dash of milk and one sweetener. And really hot.”  
“Do you think there’d be a reason why I chose that…” Deanna gestured to the mug he still held warily, “…that particular herbal tea?”  
“No…” he eyes narrowed and he suddenly found cause to reconsider his initial response. “You have a reason?”

“Indeed.” Deanna smiled with warmth. “Chamomile has a calming effect, Tom. I can be helpful in relieving stress. And if the condition isn’t serious or chronic, surely a natural substance should be tried to see if it helps before resorting to pharmaceuticals?”  
Tom smiled with just a touch of uncertainty. “Well, yeah, of course, but are you saying I’ve got some kind of condition? A mental condition?”  
Deanna couldn’t help it, she chuckled, earning a short-lived glare from the offended man. She held up a hand in apology as she said, “Sorry, Tom, it’s just such a predictable reaction. A mental condition can mean anything, it’s not a sentence of doom, but to answer your question, no. No, I don’t think you have a mental condition, other than a very understandable level of stress.”  
He absorbed that and then looked again at the mug he held by its handle. He took a deep breath and sampled a tentative sip. His eyebrows quickly rose as a result. “That’s not too bad.” he pronounced with surprise. “I doubt I’d make it a regular thing, but it’s not terrible.”

“Glad you think so.” Deanna smiled. She noted Tom had relaxed a little and shifted to sit more comfortably in his seat. It was not due to the tea; it was far more to do with her giving him permission to stay. “Now,” she settled in her own chair. “let’s talk about Katya.”

Twenty minutes had passed as Jean-Luc and Katya chatted about inconsequentialities and nibbled at the food. Katya had sampled both wines and decided that of the two, she preferred the white. Jean-Luc had duly filled her glass, but for the most part it was left untouched.  
Eventually Katya put her plate on the table and wiped her mouth. Jean-Luc sensed the importance of the moment and did the same before giving his guest his full attention.   
“You and me,” Katya began, “we’ve got stuff to talk about.”  
“Yes,” Jean-Luc replied quietly, “we do.”

“The most important thing I have to say is that I’m doing ok. I don’t hate you any more and the anger is mostly gone.”  
“I’m so glad, Katya. Was it the aliens? What they did to help all of us?”  
“Mostly, yeah,” Katya sighed and then added, “But I think I was on my way there anyway. I’d been able to admit to myself that it wasn’t your fault, that you had no more control over the shit that happened than I did.” Her gaze sharpened. “Except for your refusal to leave Haven when we should have.”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly and then nodded his agreement. “Yes,” he sighed, “there’s no dodging that. If I’d agreed to leave when Beverly first suggested it, we wouldn’t have found ourselves in the situation we did.”  
He was confused when his response provoked Katya’s anger. “No!” she spat hotly. “You don’t get to do that.”  
“Do what?” his tone was guarded, suddenly finding himself on shaky, and potentially dangerous ground.

“You don’t get to shoulder all the blame.” Katya offered a cutting motion with her hand. “Look,” she strove to keep control of her emotions. “I was with you and your family by choice. I wasn’t under your command; it was a mutually agreed assistance thing. Private, not Starfleet. I could’ve left, Captain. I could’ve left anytime I wanted. I didn’t have to stay.”  
Realisation dawned. “So,” Jean-Luc began warily, “you were blaming yourself as much as me?”  
“Yes.” Her derision was clear. “I had the chance to leave and I didn’t take it. What happened as a result was shitful, certainly, but I can’t lay the blame solely at your feet. I’m as responsible for what happened to me as anyone is.”   
She grimaced and he could almost feel her self-recrimination. “And after?” she continued. “I very conveniently refused to admit that to anyone, especially not me. I piled all that shit on you while I hid from the truth of my own complicity. I wanted someone to be held responsible, to be punished for what had happened to me. And that was wrong, Captain. I was so wrong to do that. I’m sorry, sir.”  
“Katya…” Jean-Luc felt tears threatening and paused to regain control. 

“No, Captain,” she interjected softly. “I’ve got to carry my share.” she sighed. “The aliens helped a lot, but even though they removed the damaging stuff, they couldn’t remove the fact I’d unfairly blamed you.”  
There was a long silence before Jean-Luc offered quietly, “With me it’s guilt and shame.”  
“Yeah, I understand the shame bit. But guilt? I wasn’t your fault, Captain.”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc sat back in his chair and ran his hands over his bald pate. “Although I no longer feel the crippling anguish that my memories of those events once provoked, and I’ve been counselled about the inherent nature of shame, especially as it manifests in one’s sense of masculinity, I still feel guilt for my part in those memories.”

“Yeah,” Katya sighed sadly. “I get that.” She then looked into her former captain’s eyes and asked bluntly, “How’re things going on the home front? You still persona non grata?”  
Normally, such a personal question would be met with defensive hostility. However, this was not a normal situation. After quelling his ingrained reactions, Jean-Luc took a deep breath and answered honestly.   
“There have been difficulties, some significant. But recently my wife and I have managed to take some crucial steps towards eliminating those difficulties. It is my sincere hope that we can continue, that we can put what happened behind us and perhaps, hopefully, grow stronger in our relationship as a result.”

Katya smiled with genuine warmth. “Sounds good, and I’m really happy for you, all of you. Honestly, Captain, I am. Doctor Picard is a good person. And your kids are wonderful.” Katya paused and a frown developed. “What about James, though?” she asked, her concern obvious. “That little boy had some major issues with you.”  
“Yes, he did.” Jean-Luc agreed. “However, he and I are making good progress in restoring our relationship. And, Katya,” he smiled sadly, “James has been instrumental in my recovery, too. It seems to me he holds an integral key to my reintegration into my family. Beverly interacts with me as an adult, as one would expect, but James sees me in his world … his life … in a much more … uncluttered way. Free of the entanglements of adult thinking. I find his growing acceptance of me back into his life as crucial in its importance. Without his, well, endorsement, my place in my family would be unreliable and therefore a sham. I’d be pretending. A puppet father … and thus, husband as well.”  
“Heavy stuff.” Katya remarked as she nodded her agreement. “He’s getting help?”

“Yes,” Jean-Luc smiled. “Counsellor Troi is assisting him in a very gentle way. I owe her a great deal.”  
“Yes,” Katya smiled. “so do I.”  
Jean-Luc gave his former ensign a long look before asking, “And you, Katya. Are you receiving the help you need?”  
“Yes,” she sighed, surprising him by not reacting with hostility. “My stay in the loony bin showed me the value of those who can help with stuff like this.”  
He ignored her less-than-politic description of the mental health facility she stayed in. He knew she did that deliberately as a way to protect her sense of self. “You’re seeing a counsellor?”  
“Yeah. I’ve decided the one at the facility, he was ok, you know … he helped a lot … I just wanted a female.” She sighed and waved her hand. “Sounds sexist, but after what happened…”  
“No,” Jean-Luc interjected, “no, not at all. Your feelings are understandable. It’s important that you feel totally comfortable with whoever counsels you.”  
“Whatever,” There was a note of irritation in her reply. “anyway, I’ve used the recommendations for good quality professionals that Counsellor Troi gave me when I left the Enterprise and I think I’ve found someone I’m comfortable with. I’m feeling ok, so that’s a plus. Although,” she sighed, “that might be due to what the aliens did for us.”

“Don’t underestimate your own capacity for recovery, Katya.”  
“Ha,” she barked with a snort, “my counsellor said the same thing.” She gave a cheeky smile. “Missed your calling?”  
“Hardly.” Jean-Luc replied with dry humour. He then sobered to say, “But seriously, Katya, trust yourself. Listen to your gut feelings. It’s been my experience that, more often than not, you won’t be misled or disappointed.”  
“Yeah.” She pushed away her distracted emotions and refocused. “I said some terrible things to you, Captain.”  
He shrugged, though somewhat helplessly. “It was understandable…”

“Maybe,” Katya conceded, “but I doubt that eliminates the devastation my harshness caused.”   
Jean-Luc remained silent, in some way silently agreeing with her. Katya picked up on that and nodded. “Yeah,” she sighed sadly. “damage done.”  
“Katya…” Jean-Luc began. The woman cut him off. “No, Captain. Like the other stuff, I can’t pour my shit on you. It’s not your burden to bear.”  
She took a deep breath, held it for some seconds and then let it out. “The pregnancy,” she saw Jean-Luc flinch and pushed it aside to continue. “as shitty as that was, as disgusting and painful as that was, I want you to know that I acknowledge that you weren’t to blame. It was a result of the acts of others. Namely, Lannit Yan and Twenth.”  
A silence ensued before Jean-Luc nodded slowly. “Yes, Lannit Yan and Twenth.” he sighed. “You’re aware that Beverly killed Twenth?”  
Katya nodded silently and then said, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Then you might like to know that Lannit Yan is also deceased.”  
“Really?” her reply was somewhat cryptic. She clarified the comment by adding, “What a pity. I’ve been entertaining thoughts of my participation in that happy event. So, Captain, how did Lannit Yan meet his end? In a grisly way, I hope?”  
Jean-Luc was sombre as he replied, “No, he didn’t meet a grisly end, Katya. His death was quick and painless.”  
“Oh, what a pity.” she said again, responding sarcastically. “He so deserved to endure a protracted, painful death.”  
“While I may agree with you … and I freely admit I’d fantasised about providing such an end to his life, I can only tell you that, after his capture and subsequent interrogation, he … died.”  
“Wow,” Katya said in a continuing sarcastic vein. “Lots of words that say extraordinarily little. Are you a politician after all, Captain?” 

Jean-Luc’s sharp look carried his anger and his displeasure, yet he couldn’t refute his guest’s barely disguised allegation.   
“While I recognise the essence of what you just said, “ Jean-Luc stated quietly, yet with equanimity, the gaining of which cost him dearly, “I cannot supply you with information that has been classified.”  
His choice of words was telling, as was his emphasis on the last word. Katya was no fool. Though her tenure in Starfleet was brief and of a lowly rank, she was cognisant of the machinations of such a large entity.  
Her time at Global Warp Technologies only served to cement this knowledge. Her former captain’s words said more than he could, and she easily read the subtext.  
“Ok,” she conceded, “I get it. Officially, Twenth was killed by a Starfleet officer in the defence of her life and others. Lannit Yan? He died … somehow. I wonder, though…” she offered a wry smile, “will the public be fully informed about this? Ever? As in will they ever be told the truth?” she snorted and rubbed her hands over her face. “You see, Captain, I still have a problem with the feeling I’ve been used. We all have.” she stated angrily.   
“We’ve been reduced to bit players in someone else’s drama. What happened to us has been used to allow others, the real holders of power, to use our experiences to legitimise their subsequent actions. Are you content to be the catalyst for state-sanctioned murder, Captain?”

Jean-Luc had already reconciled these questions. He offered her the same conclusion he’d arrived at. The only one he could. “Your point is valid, Katya. I agree that our experiences have been manipulated to serve another, much larger agenda. However, I must ask you several questions. From our own perspective, did Twenth and Lannit Yan deserve compassionate treatment? Would you have been content to see them arrested, charged, tried, convicted, and sentenced for their crimes? To live out their lives in a Federation rehabilitation centre?”   
He held up a warning finger. “And for not just those crimes committed against us. They were the main, the only suspects, in many unsolved cases, Katya. Cases that involved the most heinous, violent, sexual assaults and related murders.” He paused to let that sink in. 

“I’m not for one second advocating state sanctioned murder. Capital punishment was outlawed centuries ago, and for good reason. But Twenth and Lannit Yan.” he sighed and shook his head.   
He then gathered himself and continued. “I can’t verify what I’m about to tell you, not officially, Katya, however I can say that in the case of Lannit Yan’s demise, the information gained before his death was crucial in apprehending the one who had initiated the whole thing … and that encompasses what happened to us.” He gave a small, apologetic smile. “In this case I can assure you that the bigger picture has been well served. The Federation and many others will be safer because of what resulted. Isn’t that a fair, a just outcome, in this one instance?”  
Katya sighed and a frown settled on her face. “As long as it stays at this one instance, Captain.” She gave herself a mental shake and refocused. “So, the bigger picture. Can I assume that the person pulling the strings … the puppet master, has been … nullified?”  
“Yes.”  
“And what about that bloke, the one who was doing the bidding. The broker?”

“His was a different proposition.” Jean-Luc frowned as he strove for the right words. “His participation … there were some mitigating factors to his activities. In exchange for his information, which was thoroughly verified, he was granted clemency. He gave his word that he would cease his activities in return for being allowed to go back to his home planet, to reconcile with his family.”  
“That’s it?” Katya said scornfully. “He promises to be a good boy and it’s a case of, ok, no problem? Off you go to the loving arms of your family, all past sins forgiven? Shit, Captain Picard! Are you living in some kind of fantasy romance novel?”  
His cold silence cut through Katya’s disrespectful mini tirade. She swallowed and decided she’d be best served apologising. “Sorry, sir.”  
Jean-Luc accepted the apology and sighed with frustration. “While I agree with your sentiments on one level, I have to say, unofficially, that I think the right decision was made in Rurke’s case. And, Katya, he’ll be carefully monitored. If he puts so much as a toe over the line we’ve drawn, he’ll be immediately arrested and brought before the courts.”

“Rurke.” Katya said the name with a sigh. “Yeah, that’s his name.” She looked at the man seated next to her and summoned a wry smile. “So, what you’re saying, Captain, is that you’re ok with all this stuff … all the stuff that’s gone on behind the curtains.”  
“Basically, yes. It’s my opinion that what’s ensued has been for the betterment of the Federation and that, in time, benefits all of us.”  
“Right.” Katya muttered thoughtfully before saying with more force, “Well, you know way more stuff about this stuff than me and I’ve always trusted your judgement,” she sent a small, sardonic smile as she added, “recent events notwithstanding…”  
Jean-Luc acknowledged the comment with an inclination of his head, nothing more. Katya shook her head in grudging admiration. “So, ok.” she said, “Case closed. Bad guys done with, sun comes up tomorrow, we all move on.”  
“In the broadest sense, yes.”  
“How’s Elly?”

Suddenly wrong footed, Jean-Luc took a moment to change gears. “Elly? She’s fine.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you ask?”  
Katya shrugged. “Trauma in littlies is often underestimated. Keep an eye on her, Captain. All kids are very … absorbent, especially intelligent kids like James and Elly They’re just as able to soak up bad shit as they are the good stuff.”  
Jean-Luc summoned a smile. “She’s receiving care from Counsellor Troi, but I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind.” His smile increased in warmth as he added, “Thank you, Katya. Thank you for caring.”  
“Good, ok.” Katya was suddenly at a lost to know what to do. Jean-Luc sensed the meeting was nearing its end. However, he wanted to know a few more things about Katya. Her future, her happiness, had become important to him. He wanted to put his mind at rest.  
“Katya,” he said quietly, “Doctor Chalmers. Are you and he...?”

The young woman blinked in surprise. This wasn’t a question she’d thought her former CO would ask. Her initial reaction was to brush it off, however she quickly reconsidered.   
In the spirit of candour they’d shared, she answered him honestly. “We’re kinda…” She frowned as she searched for the right term, but nothing occurred to her, so she shrugged. “I’m not sure what we are, Captain. Friends, certainly, good friends.” she smiled as she confirmed, but a frown quickly returned. “To be honest, Captain, I’m not sure what I am, let alone what my relationship status is with Tom.”

A gentle silence ensued while she summoned her thoughts. “Growing up” she mused quietly, “in a big, busy household like ours, there wasn’t much time for personal stuff like self-introspection or self-discovery.   
“And in school, I was one of the nerdy ones, you know, not into sport or fashion … or boys. I kind of floated through primary and secondary schools, removed from the goings on of the mainstream. Somehow always on the periphery. Then there was uni, and then I was snaffled up by Starfleet, who dangled a very tasty, double flavoured carrot. WD or ECD. I was so immersed in all that stuff, I never gave myself, as in me, any serious consideration.”   
She gave a sardonic laugh. “I don’t know what I am, Captain. I may be straight, bi, gay or something other. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough, ‘cause I intend to go exploring.” She tilted her head to one side and changed directions yet again.   
“How aware of everything were you when you were, you know, doing that stuff to your wife and me?”

Immediately uncomfortable, Jean-Luc replied with some hesitation, “Oh, err … I have a complete memory of everything that occurred, Katya. Why do you ask?”  
Her embarrassment was obvious and so was her discomfort in asking the question. “So, were you aware of any, umm, differences between your wife and me?”  
“Differences?” Jean-Luc was struggling to hold his composure. He was confused and worried as to where this was going.  
Fortunately, Katya recognised this and strove to help him. “Captain, this isn’t more shit from me, honestly. It’s just that … well … I was a virgin.”  
“Oh, god.” Jean-Luc said, appalled, and then gasped. “Oh, Katya, I’m so sorry…”

“No!” The woman was on her feet quickly and moving to comfort the man even before she realised what she was doing. “It’s not an accusation, Captain, I’m not telling you to punish you. My point was related to my ignorance about my true sexual identity.”  
Jean-Luc looked up at the former ensign, tears welling in his eyes. Yet he said nothing, knowing she had to complete her train of thought.   
“Look,” she said, doing her best to appear unconcerned. “It had to happen sometime. Most of the people in my secondary school had lost their virginity to some cool guy or girl and bragged endlessly ad nauseum to anyone foolish enough to listen. So, it’s no big deal, not the actual losing it. Really. In some way, you kinda did me a favour.”

“Katya!” Jean-Luc was appalled once again. She silenced any further protests with a firm shake of her head. “No, really. If Tom and I do end up having sex, imagine how much more awkward it might be if we had to negotiate that? I know Tom’s had sex before, but how many blokes really know what to do? And for that matter, how many women? Beside the whole teenage fumbling and furtive stuff, how many mature virgins really know what’s what? Female, male or other? Seriously, apart from me, and I don’t really count, circumstances being what they were, how many virgins have you had? And your first time? Was your partner a virgin?”  
Completely taken aback, Jean-Luc struggled to find his voice. “My first time?” he murmured weakly. “Ah … it was a local girl, older than me.” His memory caused a wistful and completely unbidden smile to emerge. “I was seventeen.”  
“Was it her first time?”

He blinked and then nodded slowly as he acceded her point. “As a matter of fact, no. She knew what she was doing. In fact, in retrospect, I know she quite deliberately seduced me.” He shook his head and turned his mouth down. “Not that I resisted.”  
“Huh.” Katya sat on the edge of the table and cast a long look out the viewport, not really seeing Earth spinning slowly in space. “See? Everyone’s experience is different. It’s just the circumstances that determine how the event is remembered.”   
Before Jean-Luc could say anything, Katya silenced him with a wave of her hand. “It doesn’t matter, Captain, honestly, it doesn’t. That insignificant detail doesn’t change anything for me now. Really.”  
Jean-Luc reached slowly, and Katya allowed him to take her hands. “I do, most sincerely, appreciate your compassion, Katya. It is a kindness I won’t forget.”  
Her smile was sad and nervous when she responded with, “Maybe it might pay for what I did?”  
“What’s that?” Jean-Luc asked, his smooth brow creasing in a frown.

Katya took a deep breath before replying. “When you came to see me my quarters, here on the Enterprise, when you had that bottle of old whisky?”  
“Yes, I remember that.”  
“You told me some stuff, really personal stuff about what Twenth had done to you and you asked me, you implored me to not tell anyone.”  
Jean-Luc stayed silent.  
“I told your wife. I told Doctor Picard.”  
Several long moments passed while Jean-Luc stared at their joined hands and thought. Hard. 

He then looked up at Katya and smiled with genuine and forgiving warmth. “And by doing so, you helped me, Katya. One of the many things that was hampering my recovery was my lack of cooperation, my lack of the willingness to tell the truth. All of the truth. It was Beverly’s knowledge of what Twenth had done to me that allowed many doors to be opened, both personally and professionally.   
“Indeed, my stupid pride, my inability to confess something I was so ashamed of has had consequences that are being felt even now. I very nearly irreparably damaged my personal and professional relationship with someone dear to me, someone completely underserving of such deplorable treatment.”

He sighed and mirrored Katya’s earlier action by gazing out the viewport. “So, you didn’t break a confidence, Katya. Rather, you helped save me by telling a truth I should have. Once again, I am in your debt.”  
“Wow.” The woman chuckled, fanning her face theatrically. “Does that get me preference seating at any gigs?”  
“I’m not sure what that means,” Jean-Luc laughed as he shook his head. “However,” he stood and held her hands against his chest, “if you ever need anything Katya, anything at all …” his voice broke and Katya smiled. “I’ll know who to call, Captain.”   
Jean-Luc’s chin was trembling as he smiled. He took a moment to regain his composure and then said, “Shall I escort you to the transporter room?”  
Katya tilted her head back and laughed. “Yes!” she declared happily. “If only to allow me to brag that when I visited the Enterprise I was personally escorted from and back to the transporter room by none other than Captain Jean-Luc Picard!”  
“Bask while you can, Katya.” Jean-Luc said with a dry chuckle, but then added, “and you don’t have to call me Captain. You’re welcome to call me, Jean-Luc.”

“Oh!” Katya’s eyes widened and then she grinned and shook her head. “No.” she said and then repeated in a louder voice. “No! That won’t work for me. I can’t see a time when I’d ever refer to you as anything other than Captain, sir.”   
That made both laugh, but Katya soon sobered. “Really, Captain. Unless you’re promoted to Admiral or Ambassador or something, I’ll always be happy, and comfortable, referring to you as Captain. You are and always will be, my captain.”  
The ship’s most senior officer was humbled by what his new-found friend had said. However, before he could respond, he felt a playful punch to his shoulder. “Oh, wow.” Katya rolled her eyes. “Way soppy, eh?” Jean-Luc smiled his reaction and then hesitated   
Any reply he might have said was silenced as Katya used the ship’s intraship comm system to call Tom. He and Deanna joined them in mere minutes.

Deanna was so relieved to feel the wonderfully warm, settled emotions as she entered the transporter room. She already knew the meeting, though predictably at times was difficult for the participants, had gone well and, as she’d neared the two, the positive emotions emanating from them only grew stronger.

But once she was standing with them, the wonderful feelings, especially after she’d been battered for so long by negative ones, especially from her captain, made her feel giddy with joy.  
It was difficult to project the expected professional decorum in her CO’s presence when what she really wanted to do was to grin widely and throw her arms around him for a celebratory hug.  
Jean-Luc, of course, was well aware his counsellor was thoroughly enjoying both his and Katya’s relief and happiness. However, he would only bend so far in a public situation. He sent Deanna a quick and uncharacteristically wide grin and a wink, before the mask of command made such displays inappropriate and they vanished to be replaced by a far more measured, acceptable mien. She acknowledged his gesture with a surreptitious inclination of her head.

Tom stepped forward, taking Katya’s hands, and searching her face. “Are you ok?” he asked quietly, yet earnestly.  
She gave him a rakish grin and changed their hands, so she was gripping his. “I’m fine.” she said with quiet emphasis. She then sent Jean-Luc a playful cock of an eyebrow. “In fact, I’m more than fine!” she laughed and then added, “I am one fine woman.”  
Katya led Tom to step up onto the transporter pad and Jean-Luc gave the courageous, wonderful young women a smile. “Energise.” Was all he said, but silently he remarked, “Indeed, Katya. You certainly are one fine woman.”

Beverly was at her desk in her office, wading through the inevitable and unending reports that Starfleet Medical deemed essential for all serving doctors to supply. She didn’t see her husband arrive, in fact her first inkling he was with her was when she heard him say, “Computer, shut and lock doors and opaque windows.”  
Beverly rose from her desk and quickly went to the man, fearing the worst. She knew he’d been in a meeting with Katya and these requests from him seemed to her to be ones that were caused by distress. She immediately assumed the meeting must have gone very badly.

“Oh, no!” she thought, “Please, no…” She was completely unprepared when Jean-Luc took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. It was both tender and passionate and Beverly, at first surprised and confused, quickly decided to melt into it.   
Many moments passed before Jean-Luc eased the kiss and finally ended it. He didn’t, however, release his wife from his embrace.   
With their foreheads touching, Jean-Luc whispered, “I love you, Beverly.”  
It was a simple statement yet loaded with very potent emotion. Beverly lifted her head and took a small step back, separating them.  
“Tell me.” was all she said. She still harboured a lingering fear that his actions had been prompted by distress from a bad outcome of the meeting.   
Jean-Luc was quick to dispel those fears. “I’m fine, Beverly,” he said, then quickly realised she might not accept what he’d said in the way he meant it. ‘I’m fine.’ It was his default comment whenever he was asked about his health, psychological or physical. 

He hurried to amend his statement. “The meeting went well. Katya and I … we’ve found common ground and mutual comfort. It was a good result, a good outcome.”  
“Oh, Jean-Luc…” Tears of heartfelt relief welled in Beverly’s eyes. No more words came as she allowed her emotions to run their course as she embraced her husband tightly, almost desperately.   
Jean-Luc, too, allowed his feelings free rein, though only briefly. After some moments he disengaged and strove to compose himself. Beverly understood what he was doing and why he did it, yet she couldn’t help chiding him gently.  
“It’s all right, Jean-Luc,” she sniffed and wiped her nose. “no one can see us.”  
He frowned but offered a guilty smile. “I know,” he acknowledged, “it’s just that…”

Beverly placed her fingers over his mouth, effectively silencing him. “No, you don’t need to explain, I understand.” She smiled and tilted her head as she gazed at him with a steady scrutiny. “The meeting,” she started again, “tell me about it.”  
He stepped back and gathered his thoughts. “It went very well,” he began, a kind smile evident. “she’s so brave, Beverly…” he started to choke up and stopped talking so he could regain his composure.   
Once feeling more in control, he recovered his smile. “We covered a lot of ground,” he said, his relief and admiration evident. “some of it was exceptionally hard … for both of us … yet Katya always strove for honesty and it was that honesty that extracted the truth from both of us.” 

He sighed and yet his expression held his optimism. “I have positive hopes for her future, Beverly. If she stays her course, if she continues to take advantage of counselling … and her friendship with Doctor Chalmers, then I feel optimistic about her future.”  
“That’s wonderful, Jean-Luc,” the doctor beamed and then added, with heartfelt emphasis, “for both of you.” She then grinned, basking in her husband’s enthusiasm.  
Jean-Luc returned her grin. “Well,” he sighed happily, “I’d best get back to the bridge.”  
“Do you have a session with Deanna this afternoon?” Beverly was confident that her friend would’ve scheduled one. Even though the meeting with Katya had gone well, it was still a highly emotional event and Beverly knew her husband would benefit from a counselling session while it was all still fresh in his mind.  
Jean-Luc pursed his lips and the said resignedly, “Yes.”

Beverly gently gipped his upper arms and gave him a look of love and tenderness. “It’ll be all right, Jean-Luc.”  
“I know, it’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m going willingly to my own execution.”  
The droll comment made Beverly laugh. “I don’t think Deanna would appreciate hearing that, although, of course, she already knows.”  
Jean-Luc’s smile held a rarely seen hint of pure mischief. “I’ve learned over the years how to combat our empathic councellor. She has the advantage of knowing how her patients are feeling, but I’ve discovered, and this was helped along a great deal after my mind melds with Sarek and then Spock, how to … misdirect … my feelings on certain matters.”   
“She’s aware of it,” Jean-Luc conceded, “however, it’s my advantage.”

He noted the sour look on his wife’s face and added mildly, “I don’t do it all the time, Beverly, nor do I do it when the situation requires me to be open and honest. I’m no fool, I value what Deanna does and I wouldn’t sabotage my own mental health, especially to score empty, egotistic points.”  
“Hmm.” Beverly was unconvinced, and yet she understood Jean-Luc’s need to be, at least in some small way, in control. Even if it was only momentary and self-endorsed.   
And she was sure Deanna would stop him from doing anything she felt was derailing his counselling sessions.   
“All right,” she ceded. “if playing mind games with Deanna is your thing, Jean-Luc, and she’s ok with it,” Beverly shrugged. “Enjoy.”  
He snorted softly and then ordered the doors unlocked and the windows cleared. He then turned and gave the sickbay a casual look, and on seeing the staff were occupied with their various tasks, he turned back to Beverly and kissed his wife thoroughly again.  
He stepped back, turned once again, and strode out, leaving Beverly surprised, charmed, and delighted. He had kissed her as he had while on duty and in full view of any staff member who chanced to look.

Later that afternoon, Deanna stopped by sickbay, finding Beverly tending to a crewmember who had injured a knee while exercising. Beverly sent her friend a smile and mouthed, ‘5 minutes’ and then tilted her head towards her office. Deanna smiled and nodded her acceptance and went there to wait.  
The doctor entered as promised and went straight to the replicator. Over her shoulder she asked, “Can I get you anything?”  
“No thanks.” Deanna replied. “I only dropped by to tell you that the captain’s session went well. He’s really coming along.”  
As Beverly seated herself and took a sip of her hot lemon tea, her happiness evident. “I’m so pleased to hear that, Deanna.”

“Yes, I feel both of you are well on your way to recovery.” The councellor leaned forward a little and Beverly recognised she was about to hear something that Deanna felt was important.  
“I have told the captain to end his shift now and return to your quarters. He’ll also be off duty for the next two days.”  
Pulling the corners of her mouth down, Beverly gave a thoughtful nod. “That seems like a good idea.” she agreed. “Although the meeting with Katya went well and had a positive effect on him, it was emotionally draining.”  
Deanna’s smile was enigmatic, and Beverly wondered what was going on. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. “As of now,” the counsellor declared, “you’re off duty too, Beverly. I want you to join your husband now and rest for the next two days.”   
Beverly opened her mouth to protest. Deanna didn’t give her the opportunity. “Will and I will get the children from creche and they can have a sleepover tonight with us. We’ll take them to the creche tomorrow morning and, should you wish to have another night and day alone together, we’ll simply repeat the process.”

Beverly began to shake her head. That was until Deanna said quietly, “I’ve just had this battle with the captain. I won. He resisted and I ignored his protests. I was always going to insist my advice be obeyed.”   
She gave her friend an uncompromised stare. “Will I have to make it an order for you too? Because I’m prepared to do just that.”  
With thinned lips and blazing eyes, Beverly’s temper rose quickly. And yet, it dissipated just as rapidly, as reason overcame her anger. She let out a soft snort and managed to find a wry smile. “Ok, you’re right, we need some quiet time together. I won’t fight you on this.”

Deanna stood and tilted her head towards the door, mirroring Beverly’s earlier action. “Come on,” she urged, “I’ll walk with you.”  
“I don’t require an escort, Deanna.” There was a trace of irritation in Beverly’s voice. Deanna let it pass.  
They walked in silence for a little while before Deanna said with quiet amusement, “I glad you didn’t fight me, Beverly. You wouldn’t have won.”  
They had reached a turbolift and Beverly looked down at her friend and gave her a mock scowl. “You can be so damned insufferable sometimes, Deanna.”  
She replied with a somewhat smug smile, “I know. It works though.”

Having exited on deck 9, Beverly asked, “Does he know about the arrangements for the kids?”  
“No,” Deanna grinned. “I thought you might like to tell him.”  
A gentle laughter made Beverly’s eyes dance. “Insufferable and yet absolutely wonderful.” The taller woman planted a kiss on her friend’s cheek and whispered, “Thank you, dear Deanna.”  
The counsellor simply smiled and then continued down the corridor, leaving Beverly near her shared quarters. There was a definite spring in Deanna’s step.

Jean-Luc had showered and changed out of his uniform by the time Beverly joined him, choosing to wear tan slacks and an emerald green shirt. He was bare footed.   
There was curiosity, and a small amount of suspicion in his expression, as he saw his wife enter. She was supposed to be still on duty.  
He offered a welcoming smile, yet she could tell, despite his attempts to appear otherwise, he wasn’t happy. There was a tightness around his mouth and eyes and his body carried a recognisible tension. She offered a smile as she approached him, saying quietly, “I was ordered off duty too.”

His surprise was obvious. “You too?” he asked, a frown developing. “I certainly don’t like it for myself, but I can understand why counsellor Troi would choose to order me off duty. I admit, given recent events, it makes sense, but you? Why would she relieve you of duty too?”  
The smile Beverly sent made Jean-Luc tilt his head, suspicion gathering more hold. “What?” he asked warily.  
“Our counsellor has perspicacity of untold depths, Jean-Luc.”  
He remained suspicious as he muttered, “Meaning?”  
Beverly’s sympathetic smile spoke volumes. “For the remainder of today, and for the next two days, we … you and I, are off duty … and child free.”  
“Child free?” Jean-Luc repeated his wife’s words cautiously. 

“Yes.” Beverly confirmed. “Will and Deanna will pick the kids up from the creche later today and have them stay overnight with them. They’ll deliver them to creche tomorrow morning. If we find we’d like more time to ourselves, they’ll pick the kids up again tomorrow afternoon for another sleep over, or, if we choose, we can have them back at that time.”  
Beverly could see her husband’s mind was turning everything over. There were some long moments before he nodded and, as he did, a smile emerged. “Although I’ll miss them, the thought of spending time with you … just us … holds a great deal of appeal.”  
“Yes, I agree.” Beverly nodded. “When Deanna first informed me about it, I was angry, but I quickly realised how much I wanted it. How much we needed it.”  
Jean-Luc’s smile grew. “So?” he gave a quiet chuckle. “I can’t quite remember how this goes. What do we do with child free time on our hands?”

“Well,” Beverly laughed, “I don’t know about you, Jean-Luc, but I’m going to have a shower, put on something comfortable and then read.”   
She began to turn towards their bedroom before hesitating and saying over her shoulder, “And while I intend to read and maybe, if we can agree on a selection, listen to music, I’ll most probably doze off.”  
His laughter charmed her. “You and me both.”  
He felt a comfortable warmth flood his mind and he sent some heartfelt, silent thanks to their counsellor.

The late afternoon had evolved much as Beverly had predicted. They both settled in their favoured chairs, reading material at hand, an antique book for Jean-Luc and a PADD for Beverly, and a mutually agreed selection of music playing softly in the background. And they both dozed.  
Eventually, having roused themselves to replicate dinner, afterwards they again retreated to their chairs before, at 21 hundred hours, Beverly straightened her bent legs and slowly stood, enjoying a luxurious stretch and then trying and failing to stifle an expansive yawn.

“That’s it for me, Jean-Luc. I’m off to bed.”  
He used a bookmark to denote the page before carefully closing the old book. Having placed it beside his chair, he too stood, but there was a slight uncertainty in his movements, as if he were unsure how to proceed. Beverly noted this and sent him a warm smile, along with, “I’m looking forward to sharing our bed, Jean-Luc.”  
He found a tentative smile and some of his tension left him. “Me too.” he said quietly, his expression a tender one.   
They went to their bedroom and undressed. Jean-Luc had briefly considered assisting his wife in disrobing, but he quickly quashed the idea, feeling he may appear too presumptuous.  
He chose to wear a pair of sleep shorts, Beverly a simple peach coloured nightie. 

Once in the bed, they both lay somewhat awkwardly, careful to avoid touching. Considering they’d been on the brink of making love so very recently, this unexpected and unwanted barrier confused them both.   
Predictably, it was Beverly who threw caution to the winds and broke the delicately balanced impasse. “This is so stupid!” she declared as she abruptly rolled onto her side to face her husband, who lay on his back, his forearm flung over his eyes.  
He lifted his arm and turned his head, one eyebrow cocked in silent enquiry.  
“This!” Beverly gestured between them. “I want you to hold me, Jean-Luc, I want you to caress me.”

She curbed her intensity a little and added, “And I want to hold and caress you.”  
He shifted, rolling to his side to face her. “I feel the same. I don’t know why I feel I shouldn’t…”  
“There is no reason!” she declared, but then took a deep breath to calm herself. “Jean-Luc,” she said seductively, “I want you.”  
He moved immediately, reaching up to run his fingertips over her face. “And I want you.” he whispered.   
They kissed, at first tentatively and then with rapidly increasing passion. Their emotions, the pent-up sexual tension, escalated with potent force. 

Within mere moments their hands were busy, seeking to caress, to arouse. It wasn’t long before Beverly encouraged her husband to help her out of her nightie and then she showed the same eagerness in assisting him in stripping off his shorts.  
Jean-Luc, his arousal towering, gasped in anticipation as Beverly eased onto her back and urged him to cover her.  
“Oh, god, Jean-Luc. Now, please, now…”  
His erection was iron hard and throbbing. He was desperate to enter her, but as he attempted to do so, his mind betrayed him by furnishing him with images. Not mental pictures of his wife as she was at that moment, highly aroused and more than willing and eager for him to penetrate her, but rather of her as she’d appeared as he’d brutally raped her. 

His erection abruptly vanished. He gasped and then swore with vehemence. “Fuck!” he said savagely, and then said, bleakly and piteously, “No…”  
Beverly was quick to react. She had suspected this, or something like it might happen, and knew it was imperative to circumvent the matter before it became entrenched into his psyche.  
“It’s all right,” she said urgently, “Jean-Luc, it’s all right.” she emphasised. She encouraged him to lie on his back.  
Beverly was dismayed to see his tortured expression, knowing that he was feeling frustrated, devastated, and humiliated by his failed attempt at sex.  
“These things happen,” she said quickly, yet firmly. “It’s no big deal…”  
He turned his head, his expression angry and insulted. “No big deal?”

“No!” she insisted. “Look,” she continued in a softer tone, “it’s understandable, considering everything.”  
She smiled and gave her husband a sympathetic smile. “I kinda thought this might happen.” she confessed but quickly continued, “Despite what the aliens did for us, I know your memories, your internal images, were always going to interfere with whatever we tried to do with regards to penetrative sex.”   
She watched as her husband grimaced and tears made an appearance.   
“I have a solution.” Beverly offered with gentle caution.  
Jean-Luc was shocked out of his anguish and humiliation. “A solution?” his tone carried suspicion, yet still held a hopeful note.  
“Yes,” Beverly confirmed before gesturing to her nightstand. “I’ve got a hypospray…”

Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose hopefully, but then he scowled as he realised what his wife was alluding to. “A stimulant?” he spat coldly. “You don’t think I’ve had enough experience with sexual stimulants recently?”  
Beverly strove for calm. His reaction was expected, yet she knew he needed to listen. “This is different,” she said with gentle firmness. “this is us, Jean-Luc. Just you and me.”  
His protest was weakening. “But still … Beverly … a sexual stimulant?”   
“I’ll only administer a small dose.” Beverly encouraged. “just as we want it, as we need it.”  
He was gradually warming to the idea. “Are you suggesting we may employ more than one dose?” he asked a little warily.  
Beverly gave a shrug and sent him a sultry smile. “Whatever we need, Jean-Luc. Personally,” she trailed her hand down his body, “I’d be happy to use multiple doses … to make love all night long.”

“All night long…” he repeated on a sigh. “It’s been a long time…”  
“Yes.” Beverly agreed, smiling ruefully. “since before James was born.”  
“I remember,” he sighed, and then smiled with sensuous reminiscence, adding wistfully, “waking up sore the next day…”  
Beverly chuckled and said, “Yes. And every time that soreness was felt, being reminded of how it came to be…”  
“Indeed.” he sighed and offered a sensuous groan.  
“So?”

He only required a few seconds to make his decision. “Do it.” he said firmly, sending his wife a determined expression. “We’ll deal with what comes.”  
A chuckle made one of Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rise.  
“What comes?” Beverly said saucily, and then snorted. “I certainly hope we both do. Many times.”  
He cast an incredulous expression. “Dear god, Beverly, you’re incorrigible.”  
“Maybe,” she grinned, “but more likely when it comes to you, I’ve always been insatiable.”  
“Ohhh,” Jean-Luc groaned sensuously as he felt his cock begin to stiffen. “Use it.” he declared, “Use the stimulant, Beverly, now … quickly…”  
She rolled over, opened a drawer of her bedside table, and retrieved the hypospray. She waggled her eyebrows as she injected her husband, then nodded her encouragement as she gave him the device and lifted her chin to allow him to access her neck. The quiet hiss of the hypo made them both sigh with heady anticipation. 

“How long?” Jean-Luc asked. He was aware of how long it had taken to take effect in the past, but given his recent difficulties, he briefly wondered if there would be any change to that.  
“A few minutes.” Beverly replied with a smile, causing Jean-Luc to smile with relief.   
“No different, then.” he noted silently, feeling encouraged.   
Beverly then trailed her fingertips over his torso. “Jean-Luc?” she began, her tone sultry. He didn’t respond verbally, choosing instead to answer with a caress of her breasts and nipples.  
Emboldened, Beverly continued, “at some time tonight, will you do that thing where you put your thumb in my ass, two fingers inside me to tease my G spot, while your tongue dances over my clit?”  
“Oh,” he sighed, his eyes slitting. “oh, yes, certainly. But Beverly…” he moaned softly as she teased his rapidly hardening cock. “will you do that thing where you suck my cock and push your knuckles hard up behind my balls? And then, just when I’m about to come, you slip a finger into my arse? So, I come deep in your mouth?”

“Swallowing every drop?” she smiled, one eyebrow seductively arched. “Ah…” Beverly sighed, momentarily distracted as Jean-Luc slid his fingertips over her clit. She quickly regathered her thoughts, “Ah, that’s my super deluxe blowjob…”  
“Yes.” his breathing was becoming ragged. “We can make love languidly too, taking our time…”  
“And we can fuck furiously as well, if we want …”  
“Yes, and then I can pinch your nipples just hard enough when you’re about to come to make you scream…”  
“Yes … oh, yes …”  
Jean-Luc moved to cover his wife. “But for now, there’s this…”

He slid into her, abruptly filling, and stretching her. Beverly gasped and arched her back, reveling in the heady high of penetration. “Yes…” she said on a sigh, “yes, Jean-Luc … this …”   
Their initial joining was urgent, yet still tender, and the resulting climaxes were profoundly satisfying. Beverly cried out her orgasm, inarticulate with sensation, her body convulsing in ecstasy. Jean-Luc’s orgasm carried him away, leaving him hovering in and out, fading from consciousness, momentarily lost in a state of sexual euphoria.  
The night was spent as Beverly had suggested. Short periods of sleep interspersed with small doses of stimulant to allow more sex. Sometimes tender, sometimes torrid, and often something in between. They managed to fulfil their requests of each other, and once thoroughly satiated, they slept well into the ship’s following day.

On waking, they made love again, this time without the use of the stimulant. They were both sore from their recent activities, but that only added another dimension to their sensations. Afterwards they lay quietly, holding each other and dozing.  
They opted to be child free until the following day, when they would make use of Will and Deanna’s kindness once again. It was decided that the couple would pick their children up from the creche at the normal time the next day.  
There’s no doubt both Jean-Luc and Beverly knew there would be bumps along the road to recovery. Having undergone such a deeply traumatic experience it would be inevitable, despite the assistance of the aliens, and Deanna’s help, that there would be times when the memories would surface and cause mental disturbances.

However, this bruised and battered couple had done the most important thing in making love. It was a healing. A psychological, physical, and emotional healing that reestablished their commitment to each other. As a couple and as parents.  
Their love for each other had triumphed and through that profound bond, two damaged souls had been healed.   
The future was once again theirs.

END.


End file.
